The Fall of the Mikaelsons
by Lilly1999
Summary: Since birth, the Mikaelson siblings have been taught their House's words: We do not fall. Yet as tragedy strikes the family, a spiral of unforeseen events starts to drag them down, making them doubt the truth behind these words. With time, they realize that family is power and that the only way to survive is to stay together. Always and forever. xx The Vampire Diaries GoT Style xx


A/N

Hi, there.

So, this is not my first fanfiction but it is my first multichaptered Vampire Diaries fanfiction, as well the first one, related to Game of Thrones and its fandom. I got the idea a while back while still watching the 8th season of GoT and I just had a thought of how much the Starks resemble the Mikaelsons. Several months later here we are.

The way I imagine this to work is to have 8 stories (for the 8 seasons of GoT), each made up of 10 chapters (reflecting the 10 episodes per season). Of course, the further along the way it gets, the less similar to the original fandom it will be.

A few things to note down before starting to read. First, there are no Lyanna and Rheagar in this story. How and why the Rebellion came to be, you will read later in this chapter, but for those of you who have finished GoT there is no R+L= J in this story. There will be a certain plot twist around a certain's characters birth later on, but it will not be of this kind. That being said, I have also allowed myself a little creative freedom in terms of the character's ages. Since I couldn't have them as young as they are originally in Got, these are the ages, I will be working with:

Elijah- 18

Klaus- 17

Rebekah- 15

Freya- 13

Henrik- 12

Kol- 10

Damon- 18

Katherine- 16

Stefan- 15

Tyler- 20

Caroline- 17

Giuseppe- 35

Mikael- 34

Esther- 33

Amara- 31

Tatia- 31

Silas- 30

Finally, here I will provide the geographical parallels between the two fandoms to avoid confusion. I was thinking of doing a complete dictionary, outlining the major characters and the roles they will be taking, but I thought this will be too much of a spoiler. Nevertheless, if anyone's role or purpose remains unclear or any other confusion arrises, please don't hesitate to comment about it and I will try my best to explain it. Geography:

The North: Region of Louisiana

Wintertown: New Orleans

Winterfell: The Abattoir

King's Landing: Mystic Falls

Storm's End: Region of Virginia

Westerlands: Region of Bulgaria

The Vale: Region of Norway

Pentos: Dallas

Whatever is not mentioned here in terms of geography, hasn't been decided yet. For now, enjoy :)

**Always and Forever**

It was a fine morning in New Orleans, the biggest city in the region of Louisiana. It wasn't particularly sunny, nor warm, but that was okay because in these parts it never was anyway. The inhabitants of the city were simply glad to get a few additional hours of light now that the day had started shrinking considerably and winter was drawing nearer by the day. Many of them feared the inescapable threat that the next season posed for no one wished to die of cold or starvation. It had been easier last time around, the old people in the city said. Back then the Lord, which resided over them was good, gentle, honorable. He kept the storages open to the people, their limit to grain unlimited and was said to have housed over a thousand frozen people in the hall of his keep during the worst winter snowstorms. The people knew better than to expect similar treatment from Lord Mikael and for that, had started preparing early on.

The Lord of the Abattoir had always been a tough man. He had seen war and he had seen violence and he had come out of it with nothing more than a small scar on his leg. Still, he had not always been cruel. Once, a long time ago, when he had first married the southern beauty which is Lady Esther, he had been humorous, easy-going, gentle and charming. They say that this is why his firstborn- the Lord Elijah- was so gentle and noble himself. He was a child of the blossoming love between the newlywed Lord and Lady and as such not only was he his father's favorite, but he was blessed by the gods. They say once upon a time Lord Mikael truly and fiercely loved his wife. And that this is the reason why no one was able to fix him again after her betrayal.

It happened during the Rebellion. The just anointed Lord Mikaelson of New Orleans left his wife, who had just given birth to their firstborn, to join his long-time friend in his quest to unseat a ridiculous, shameful and disgraceful king. It became known as the "Rebellion of Morality" because the motive which Giuseppe Salvatore presented for revolting was that he "couldn't bare live in a country where the monarch had become the laughing stock of the people and didn't even care about it". According to Giuseppe, King William "Bill" Forbes was so deep in his cups that debauchery had taken such a deep root in his court and subsequently, country, that the problem could not be resolved without a complete change in government. Of course, in the whole fiasco, Giuseppe appeared to the common people as a saint amongst them, sent by the gods to help them find their way to righteousness. Mikael was never fooled by these delusions. He knew firsthand that Giuseppe was no saint; they had grown up together, Mikael squiring for Giuseppe's father, and thus was a frequent participant in Giuseppe's escapades. But he saw something else, something that the common people lacked the ability to see. Willam was weak and primitive ruler. He wasted money on wine and parties, instead on strengthening and developing the country. Giuseppe, on the other hand, would rule with an iron fist, get the finances in order, start to actually collect taxes from the people in practice, not just on paper and then would put this money back into trade and military developments. The economics will liven up and the country will progress. Not to mention that with Giuseppe on the throne, a number of privileges would have fallen onto Mikael. As the King's best friend he received the position of Warden of the North, one of the highest in the kingdom, as well as a significant amount of money to divide in his region as he sees fit. With this information in mind, it becomes pretty clear why eighteen years ago Mikael left to support Giuseppe in his Rebellion, no matter how ludicrous the reason behind it was. What he certainly did not expect is to return one year later to find his wife heavy with another man's child.

Niklaus Mikaelson- Snow by birth, but Mikael's pride forbad him from acknowledging in public that the child was not his- had never lacked anything in his life. He lived in the same rooms as his siblings, ate on the same table, trained at the same yard. Yet, he was always treated differently. By the time he turned two years old, it was clear as a day that he was no son of Mikael no matter whose name he bore and this crime, of his parentage, was one his step-father never let him forget.

After Klaus four more children followed in the Mikaelson's family. Rebekah, Freya, Henrik and Kol were all born as a result of Esther's attempt to redeem herself and win a more favorable attitude towards her son. Yet, her efforts were all fruitless. Mikael became cold and cruel; a shadow of the young man he once was. There was hardly a person, residing in proximity to the Abattoir, who had never tasted the Lord's anger on him either by violent physical means or cruel treatment. No one knew if he dared to raise a hand against his own family for if he did, he never let it show on the outside, but even only his harsh words were enough to send the Lady Esther into inconsolable cries. One was clear, Mikael Mikaelson was a bad and greedy man and the people knew it was just a matter of time before he causes his own demise.

The household of the Abattoir greeted morning just as lively as the people in the city, servants running all around the place, completing tasks as not to give their Lord a cause to anger today. The only ones who stood in their way were the Mikaelson children. Woken up by first rays of daylights, they, too, were trying their hardest to maximize the day before the coldness of winter stepped in and made it impossible to train outside. Currently, the two oldest brothers, Elijah and Niklaus, were attempting to teach their brother Henrik archery, while their youngest brother Kol watched and asked when would be his turn to learn to fight. Lacking his brother's vivid enthusiasm for the sport, Henrik was failing miserably at his task. He had just shoot yet another arrow, which flew just above the target, landing somewhere in the tree behind it, when his brothers who had witnessed such sights for half a day already and couldn't contain themselves, erupted into laughter. Henrik started loading another arrow onto his bow, intending to make them shut up with a perfect shot, pulled the strings and then the unmistakable sound of an arrow pierced the air, landing perfectly in the bull eye of the target. The laughter died on Elijah and Klaus's lips and they looked towards their brother impressed, only to realize it was not his arrow, which so perfectly had hit the target.

"Freyaaaaaaa," shouted Niklaus at the already retreating laughing sight of their sister "Running away from your sewing lesson with Rebekah, are we not? How do you expect Henrik to learn if you keep interrupting our lessons? One more time, I swear, one more time sister and I will report you to mother." Yet, his threat fell through because by the time Klaus shouted it at his sister, Freya had already retreated inside the keep, presumably to continue with whichever female duties she was supposed to perform.

"You know you are not going to stop her, right?" asked Elijah, raising one brow to show he was more amused by the situation than anything else.

"This is the third time this week that she pulls a stunt like this! How are we supposed to teach him if she keeps embarrassing him like that?" retorted Klaus, but before Elijah could respond, Henrik, who had cheered up by his sister's brief visit, chipped in.

"She is not going to stop, Nik, because she knows you are never going to rattle her out like you threaten to do."

"Oh, and how to you that, little man?" asked him Klaus with a twinkle in his eye.

"Because you never rattle any of us out," the child answered with a childish shrug, which caused Elijah to smile affectionately and Klaus to ruffle his hair. True, he was not so little anymore, he was going to be thirteen soon, but that didn't stop them from still seeing him as their little brother.

In their joy, however, the brothers failed to notice the silluethe of their father, who had come outside along with their mother just moments prior and now was looming threateningly over them from the battlements about the yard.

"What have you been wasting time on again?" asked Mikael with severity in his voice and tension in his shoulders, which were clear signs that today the master of the keep was in no mood to be trifled with. The noise in the yard died down and the servants scattered around, each trying to find something to occupy his time and not draw attention.

"We are teaching Henrik to shoot an arrow, father," answered Elijah gravely, a serious expression fixed on his face.

"Teaching him to shoot an arrow, hm?" sneered Mikael "And what do you say, Elijah, is your brother any good?"

"He is getting better," hesitantly answered the eldest brother. It was a lie, Henrik was at the exact same place he was when they started practicing a week ago, but he would not endanger his brother by sharing this with their father.

Before Mikael could utter another disparaging remark at his children, however, a messenger arrived and with trembling movement murmured something for just the Lord Mikael to hear. To his credit, his face did not change at all. He just let out an annoyed huff and with a dismissing wave towards the messenger, turned back to his children.

"Gather your horses, we have another deserter from the Wall to execute," Klaus and Elijah both nodded and started collecting their training arrows, when their father's voice pierced the air once more "You too, Henrik. You are far too old now, it is about time you see a man die for the first time."

At this addition, the Lady Esther, who until this moment had just stood at her husband's side, observing her family, looked up and moved towards her husband, trying to reason with him "Mikael, please, he is still just a boy," but her appeal fell to deaf ears and with one movement, her husband had waved her off him and disappeared towards the stables.

"Don't worry, mother," the calming voice of Klaus tried to soothe her, while Elijah, Kol and a little shaken Henrik moved along the yard to prepare "Elijah and I will be there to look after him."

His mother then turned towards him, and caressed his face in a loving gesture "I know, my son. You and your siblings must always protect each other. No matter what anyone says, you six are family. You know our words?" Klaus nodded and uttered "Always and forever."

"Always and forever," repeated Esther and from her mouth the words sounded like a chant.

In truth, these were not the official words of the House of Mikaelson- the true ones were "We will not fall"- but Esther never manage to adopt them upon her marriage. To her, they appeared unnecessary violent, proclaiming paranoia and hostility towards others. None of this was something she wanted to teach her children. So instead, she embraced the motto of her own house, which advocates for love and loyalty, and taught it to them behind Mikael's back. She was just glad that they were smart enough to never demonstrate her teachings in front of their father.

The execution itself was a sordid affair. It was over before the boys could blink, the traitor's head falling quickly from his shoulders under their father's sword. Still, that didn't make it any easier for Henrik, who had never seen a man die before. And, apparently, that was not the only thing which worried him.

"Nik," whispered the boy to his brother once their father was out of earshot "is it true what this man said? That he saw vampires?"

"Henrik, vampires are just a myth," inserted Elijah before climbing on his own horse. "Don't listen to the words of desperate fools." He added before taking off after Mikael.

"Nik?" asked Henrik again, looking at his favorite brother for affirmation.

"Elijah is right, Henrik. You need not worry your little head about this," responded Klaus, while helping his brother to climb on his horse. "Besides, even if it was true, Elijah and I will protect you. All of you, from everything. So don't worry, no vampire will even dare come close to the Abattoir as long as I live." He then smiled towards his brother and climbed on his own horse, taking off in the direction of their home.

No more than five minutes later, though, Klaus and Henrik were forced to halt their horses, when they noticed that their father's party had all stopped and appeared to be examining something on the ground at the beginning of the woods.

"What's going on?" questioned Klaus, worried that someone might have gotten hurt.

"It's a deer. It's dead. It has been attacked by something just a while ago. The animal may still be lurking somewhere near," explained Elijah after realizing that Mikael had no intention of acknowledging his son's question.

In this moment, Mikael stood up from his position on the ground next to the deer and moved towards the woods with no explanation, giving the rest of the party no choice but to follow him. When Mikael finally pulled to a spot, in front of him stood a robust she-wolf, fiercely guarding her holt. Six small puppies were barely showing from behind her, her offspring. Mikael didn't hesitate, he leapt from his horse and just as the she-wolf was jumping to attack him, he slayed her with a one swing of his sword. The she-wolf never stood a chance. He then made a step towards the puppies, which had felt their mother's death and now were whimpering pitifully.

"Wait!" Klaus's voice pierced through the clearing, causing even Mikael to look at him. "Don't kill them," he implored with tightness in his voice, even if he realized that Mikael might listen to anyone, but him.

Mikael then looked back at his sons over his shoulders, sneering and growled:

"Marcellus!" When the young ward stepped forward, Mikael motioned towards the pups, his intent clear and started to wipe out the blood from his sword and put it in his sheath.

"No!" It was Elijah, who opposed this time, tough, putting his hand in front of the Gerard to stop him from nearing the animals.

"You dare disobey me, boy?" roared Mikael, but Elijah remained unfazed.

"Think about it father," he started "there are exactly six pups, as many as there are Mikaelson children. The wolf may not be sigil of our house, but it is strong and fearful animal. Having it in your court it will bring vigor and respect to your House."

"You'll train them yourselves, _you_'_ll feed them yourselves_ and if they die, you'll bury them yourselves," stated Mikael, before climbing on his horses on riding back towards New Orleans, never once checking if his sons were following behind him.

And while the northerners enjoyed their peace and quiet, bells were ringing in the capital of Westeros, Mystic Falls. Normally bursting with life, today the city was overtaken by a collective melancholy, caused by the death of its chief protector Thomas Fell. Lord Fell had served as Hand of the King ever since the Rebellion years ago and in that time has proven to be the only one to take into consideration the conditions under which the ordinary people lived. His gentle and loving nature was well-known and made him well-loved among the citizens, just like his military prowess had won him the respect of both Giuseppe Salvatore and Mikael Mikaelson. Thus, his sudden and unexplained death was a cause of grief for the whole nation, rich and poor alike. The only ones, who didn't seem to be mourning much, were the family of the Queen.

"Sister!" rang the boisterous voice of Silas Petrov as he entered his older sister's chamber.

"Silas," exclaimed Amara and turned around from her position in front of the mirror to face him. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on you, of course. Can't a brother just visit his sister nowadays?" shrugged Silas and grinned cheekily.

"No, not when the said sister is the Queen, no!" hissed the Queen, who had come to stand in front of him with arms crossed.

"Relax sister," responed Silas and rolled his eyes, moving into the room to sit on the ottoman. "You worry too much." He told her with a pointed look before popping a grape into his mouth.

"Well someone has to for both of our sakes!" exclaimed the Queen angrily while also trying to keep her voice down and constantly glancing towards the door, paranoid that someone might walk in.

"Here, let your little brother help you relax some of this godawful tension you have," said Silas and stood up again, moving towards her and reaching for her shoulders with the intention of massaging the. Amara shook him away, however, and growled:

"We just got away from a compromising situation, do you want to get us into trouble again?"

"Please, sister, to say we got away would mean we were in any danger to start with," snickered Silas. "And for a thousand time I will tell you: We. Were. Not. Thomas Fell did not see nor know anything. In any case, he is taken care of, so-"

"But what if he did? What if he did and told someone?" insisted the Queen, interrupting her brother and storming her foot angrily to emphasize her point.

"Then you and I would already be dead, which we are clearly not. So can we please forget about the old fool already and move ahead with our lives?" finished her brother with raised eyebrow, his expression causing Amara's composure to lessen. She bid her lip hesitantly but did not pull away again when she felt her brother's hands finding their way back to her shoulders.

"And what about the fool that will come after him? We can't let Giuseppe hire someone who will want to dig into Thomas Fell's death and put us in danger," her eyes suddenly brightened as if she just had an idea "Maybe you should be the next Hand of the King."

"Even if I wanted to, I doubt my vows will allow me to accept such a position. Which by the way I don't. Want it, that is. Too much responsibility, too little fun. But you don't have to worry, sister, because I promise you no one will think to come after us for this," Silas then cradled her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him "I will take care of it, I promise." The Queen gazed into her little brother's deep green eyes and, with her last protests dying on her lips, allowed herself to be comforted by him.

Back in New Orleans the sun was already setting at the time Lady Esther left the Abattoir for the first time that day. A sense of dread filled her as she moved away from the keep and towards the forge, where she knew her husband was singlehandedly tending to his own sword.

"Mikael, my love?" started she hesitantly as she entered the building. Just like she predicted her husband was there, working on polishing the sword he had used for the execution earlier, and thus, replied with just a gruff of acknowledgment. "I am so sorry, my love, but I bring terrible news from the capital." Esther paused and held her breath before delivering the blow. "Thomas Fell is dead."

At her words Mikael finally looked up from his work on the weapon towards his wife.

"What are you talking of, woman?"

"It is true. I am, indeed, very saddened by this news as well. I know he was a good friend of yours," repeated Esther and swallowed a lump which had formed into her throat.

"What happened to him, does it say?" asked Mikael angrily as he got up. "And what about your sister and your nephew?"

"It- it is not clear what he died of, although it suggests a sudden illness as the reason." explained Esther quickly as she wanted to get this part over with "And Dahlia is fine. She and Finn are returning to the Norway region as we speak. My sister is desperate to get them both within the safety of their own holdings."

"And why would that be?" grunted Mikael "Unless she suspects that it was not natural causes which took Thomas's life?"

"I don't— it doesn't—what else could be it?" finally murmured a baffled Esther.

"Poison." shrugged Mikael nonchalantly and moved to put his discarded for now sword. "Not that it matters much. The dead are dead. Does the letter say anything else?"

"King Giuseppe rides north for New Orleans along with his whole court- the Queen, the Prince, the children… the whole lot of them," replied the Lady with a nod and bit her lower lips, not knowing what reaction to anticipate. Yet, silence was probably the furthest from the inevitable outburst she expected. She remained calm for several moments until she couldn't contain herself any longer.

"Mikael? What are you thinking about?" she asked tentatively.

"You know what he wants, don't you?" he asked with his back turned to her "There is only one reason he is coming all this way. And this time I will accept."

"I understand."

"Do you?" asked Mikael bitterly and turned back towards her, making a small direction in her way "Last time the King asked me to be his Hand, I refused on the grounds that I couldn't wait to be reunited with you and start our lives together. Turns out I was a fool, considering in what state I found you when I returned." Esther shifted visibly at the reminder of the infidelity "I won't limit myself again for people who don't deserve it."

"I understand." repeated Esther, looking straight into his eyes in a sign of defiance. It painted her to hear him talk about their family in such disparaging manner but she would not let him see.

"Good." resolved Mikael and turned back to his sword, ending the conversation. Esther turned to leave and was already at the door, when she heard him calling to her. "Esther… you can invite your sister and her son here… if you want." She looked at him across her shoulder and if she didn't know better, she would call the look in his eyes almost gentle. She nodded, appreciating the gesture even if she knew her sister would never agree to come this far north. She exited then, not knowing which shook her more- the very real possibility of her husband going south to the capital and not returning for uncertain amount of time or seeing the old Mikael there for a moment in the eyes of her cold heartless husband.

One moon passed since the raven from Mystic Falls and the Mikaelson household was more active than ever. Preparation for the arrival of the King and the court were in order and the Lady Esther was going mad, trying to arrange the comfort and content of her impending guests. Her children pretended to want to help her, when in truth each of them looked for a way out of duties in order to enjoy the last moments of relative freedom before the king's arrival forced them to behave and attend various boring adult events.

Additional commotion was caused by the wolves, which may not be the size of puppies anymore, but were now constantly running around with their masters, messing with the staff's feet and minds alike. Each of the Mikaelson children had been very joyful upon receiving the animals and taken great care in training and disciplining their wolves. There was Elijah's Honor, named after the value the young Lord values the most; Klaus's Alpha, which was very different in the sense that its fur was completely white in comparison to the others' darkish color and which seemed to have become the leader in the small pack, when the masters weren't around; Rebekah named hers Beauty, because when her brothers came back with the puppies, she took great care into choosing the prettiest one, showing her preference for the more delicate and feminine traits; Freya named hers Aurora, after the old Goddess of Dawn, and truly the wolf looked as if it held some deeper spiritual understanding of the world; Henrik went for the name Little Warrior, because that was the dream he wished to accomplish one day: to become a powerful and fierce warrior like his brothers with his loyal companion by his side. Finally, Kol choose his to be called Wildling, reflecting his master's wild side and his deeply hidden longing for adventure. It was not a coincidence that this wolf was the hardest to tame.

"We'll need plenty of candles for Lady Tatia's chamber, the Queen's twin sister." explained the Lady Esther to Ayana, her main housekeeper and friend, as they were crossing down the halls of the Abattoir, perfecting everything for tonight's celebration. "I am told she reads all night."

"I am told she drinks all night." replied Ayana with a raised eyebrow. "It's what the Petrovas are infamous for."

"Well, don't forget she is a woman after all. How much could she possibly drink?" answered a bemused Esther.

"And that statement there, my dear Esther, is why you never get drunk. You don't even try," teased Ayana.

"In any case, candles." Esther told her with a pointed look.

"Checked and… done." observed Ayana as she marked something on her planning parchment. "Were are the boys by the way? Aren't they supposed to be getting ready now?"

"For their sakes, I hope they are."

"Honestly, I fail to see why mother insists so much on us looking good for the King. Shouldn't she focus on the girls, seeing as they are the ones the King will focus on anyway? They say he is a drunk old lecher," complained Klaus with a scoff as he waited his turn for a shave after Elijah.

"Maybe the Queen wants something pretty to look at, too, you know," proposed Marcellus with a shrug. "They say she is hot thing, the Queen. Can't imagine what life must be like if she is married to a drunk old lecher."

"I wouldn't recommend going down that road, Marcellus." inserted Elijah as he stood up from the shaver's chair and gave Klaus his turn "It would be treason after all, punishable with death." he added with a pointed stare but then turned towards his brother "And I would appreciate it, Niklaus, if you did not speak of our sisters in this manner again. I hear the Prince is quite a… peculiar boy, if one can say so. I would hate to see him near Rebekah or Freya."

"Peculiar or no, he is the heir to the throne. He won't land less than a major Lord's daughter, so he is already a lucky man in my mind." replied Marcellus.

"Prince or no prince, he will do well to keep away from my sisters, especially if he wishes them harm." growled Niklaus, but was forced to remain silent as the shaver moved his blade near his throat, temporary ending the conversation.

"Gods, where is this boy now? Henrik! Henrik!" shouted Lady Esther as she moved across the courtyard, looking for her son. "Henrik! If you hear me, come hear this minute or I swear to God—"

"Mom!" Esther turned as she heard a child's voice exclaim loudly from just behind her.

"Henrik! Where have you been! The King is expected to arrive—" reprimanded Esther before a thought dawned on her and she looked around to examine her surroundings "Wait a second, young man! Where did you come from?" Henrik opened his mouth to explain but Esther shushed him with a motion of her hand and continued "You were climbing the walls again, were you not? Of course you were, there is no other place you could just suddenly appear from so out of nowhere! Henrik, how many time do I have to repeat myself, climbing is dangerous! You could fall or loose balance or someone can scare you and then— "

"I am fine, Mooom!" interrupted her Henrik with an exasperated sigh. "Besides, do you know what I saw? The King! Here on our road! By my estimation, their whole party should arrive in less than an hour!" added the boy quickly, hoping to distract his mother enough to forget that he had broken her strict 'no climbing' rule. Esther, however, who had raised four children past this age already, saw through his attempt and didn't let him go so easily:

"Henrik, you must promise me not to climb again! It's dangerous and you could have died!"

"I promise." said the boy quietly and although Esther suspected this to be a lie, she knew she can't hope for more.

"Good. Now go and find your siblings, while I tell your father that the King is approaching," ordered his mother and Henrik did not waste another minute to run back towards the keep. The Lady remained there for a moment, looking fondly at the direction where her son had disappeared to, before sighing and moving to find her husband.

The arrival of King was just as triumphant as one would expect it to be. It mattered little that the King was not returning from a glorious fight this time around. It mattered little that he had never even set food in the region of Louisiana before and even less that he failed to orientate himself in the topography of the region. Finally, it mattered the least if the people wanted him there or not, he was the King and every wishes of his became command at right. So when the Mikaelson family gathered in the yard to honor his arrival and ordered all of their household to attend with them, there was not one soul, daring to refuse.

Currently, Lord Mikael stood in the Middle at his place of honor with the Lady Esther by his side. Right next to his father stood Elijah and next to Elijah, the other siblings were situated in order of succession: Klaus, Rebekah, Freya- who was being conspicuously late- and Henrik. Only Kol was allowed to stay on his mother's side by the right of being the youngest.

"Rebekah, where is your sister?" asked a nervous Esther her oldest daughter. Everything was perfect for the arrival and she would hate it if they ended up being embarrassed by their own daughter.

"How can I know?" replied an annoyed Rebekah with a huff. Esther fought the urge to roll her eyes and asked her remaining children:

"Has any of you seen your sister today?"

"I am here, mom!" came Freya's voice from behind, sounding a little out of breath. She quickly reached her family and almost inconspicuously took her place between Rebekah and Henrik, nudging her brother teasingly as she did so.

"And where, pray tell, were you, young lady?" asked her indignant mother.

"I was just watching the procession from a better viewpoint, that's all," answered Freya sheepishly. Thankfully, she was saved from her mother's endless question by the royal horn, which announced the entrance of the royals and the family held its breath.

To everyone's surprise, the procession was not let by the King himself, but rather by his eldest son and heir, Prince Damon. The Prince was tall, lean and handsome with his unruly black hair and piercing blue eyes. And judging by the way his eyes immediately scattered the court yard as he entered, he knew very well how to use the advantage of his good looks and reveled in women's attention. His eyes connected with Rebekah's almost immediately and seeing this, Klaus and Elijah decided right then and there that they don't like him even one bit.

King Giuseppe Salvatore rode in next. His presence could not be mistaken due to the heavy golden crown he wore on his head even if the man in front of them was very far from the man about whom the children had spent years listening to stories from their father. No, in appearance King Giuseppe was completely opposite from the young Lord Giuseppe from Mikael's youth. He was fat and clumsy but moved with an air of arrogance which befell only those who had reveled in undisputable power for far too long. The moment he entered through the gate, the Mikaelson family fell in a big curtsy, rising only given an explicit sign from the King.

"New Orleans is yours, Your Grace," announced Mikael and only then did the King allow himself to dismount and greet his life-long friend.

"You've got fat," were the first words to come out of the King's mouth but Mikael knew better than to respond to the taunt. His children shared a few disbelieving glances but remained still just as well.

Yet, the King erupted into laughter only a second latter, joined in by Mikael almost immediately. The two friends then proceeded to hug, before the King turned his attention to the Lady of the House.

"Esther!" greeted he her joyfully and before she knew what was happening, he had crushed her in his embrace just as well. "Oh, I missed you! I haven't seen almost since your wedding! And who must you be, young man?" asked he and turned towards the youngest Mikaelson, ruffling his head in the process.

"Kol," answered the boy proudly and the King smiled before continuing with the rest of the family.

Meanwhile, a carriage came to a stop in the yard, its door opened and from inside exited the most beautiful woman Elijah had ever seen. In fact, he was so mesmerized by her appearance that he almost missed the King speaking to him.

"And you must be Elijah. The eldest." Elijah snapped out of his trance and moved to shake Giuseppe's hand, trying to ignore Klaus's snickering behind his back.

"It's an honor, Your Grace."

The King then moved on to greet Klaus and Elijah heard Freya whisper to Rebekah:

"These must be the Princess Katerina and her brother, Prince Stefan. They say the Princess is a copy of her mother and this makes her hard to distinguish from her aunt, the Lady Tatia, the Queen's twin sister. Where is she by the way? I heard that she was the most educated woman in Westeros, I can't wait to meet her!"

"For the sake of God, will you shut up Freya!" came Rebekah's annoyed hush reply before she smiled graciously for the King.

"My, you are a pretty one!" started a gleeful Giuseppe "What's your name, my dear?"

"Rebekah, Your Grace."

"And your sister's?"

"Freya." The King nodded his acknowledgment and moved to Henrik, grinning to him:

"Ah, show me your muscles young man!" He then chuckled as Henrik proceed to do as he was instructed and concluded that Henrik would make a fine warrior one day.

Finally, after the whole family was greeted, Giuseppe turned back to Mikael.

"Come on, old man, show us your wine cellar! They say the cold winter weather allow for the wine to be best preserved, I intent to try it and judge for myself."

"Surely, the alcohol can wait until we have settled down, my love."

No one had noticed that the Queen had exited the carriage right after her children until she spoke. Mikael and Esther immediately fell into a bow and curtsy respectfully, greeting of "My Queen", following immediately. Amara paid them small attention, even as Mikael moved to kiss her hand and the smile she had placed on her face as fake as the endearment she had said to her husband. Yet, the King paid her no mind and with a nod to his head both he and Mikael exited the court yard in the direction of the cellars. The Queen nodded to Esther then and moved back towards her party, near her brother who had also dismounted. Klaus took this moment to tease his brother before he had the chance to escape him:

"Did you lose your ability to speak by the sight of such a great beauty, brother? And here I thought you were a hopeless case who would marry and bed only the dutiful little wife father will choose for you. Maybe, you finally met your match."

"Shut up, Niklaus," murmured Elijah through his teeth and turned his attention to the girls, who were arguing again. "Freya, stop asking after the Lady Tatia, you will make a poor impression! And you, Rebekah, stop arguing with your sister!"

"Ah, you think to escape me, brother, but I know better. I will not let this go easily I tell you," continued Niklaus as the people started to scatter around and he and Elijah found themselves on their way towards the keep.

"What do you want me to say, Niklaus? That she is my soulmate who had finally returned to me after years of suffering?" sighed an exasperated Elijah who would admit to almost anything now just to get his brother to leave him alone.

"That would be a good start yes," consented Klaus way too cheerfully "Even if I don't believe in soulmates. But if I find one as pretty as this—"

"And I don't believe in love, Niklaus. So if you please drop it already and excuse me, please," cut him off an irritated Elijah, leaving a dumbfounded Klaus behind.

And while the brothers were having their merry conversation on the other part of the yard the Petrova Queen seemed to be anything but merry. She had moved to her brother's side as soon as it was socially acceptable to do so and now was whispering to him in an angry notion:

"Where the hell is our sister? She was supposed to be standing with me for support! I can't imagine she managed to sneak out again! Go and find her, Silas!"

Down in the cellars Mikael's and Giuseppe's joyful mood was quickly replaced by seriousness as each came to terms with the reality of their situation.

"Here we can speak without fear of someone overhearing," started Mikael cautiously as he poured wine into the King's cup "Tell me what really happened to poor Thomas Fell."

"You suspect poison, don't you?" laughed the King humorlessly "Can't deny the thought has crossed my mind. How else could you explain it? One minute he was fine, running errands all around Mystic Falls, the next he was gone. We barely registered he was ill before we lost him," he sighed then and looked across the table at his friend "I loved that man. I did. He was one of the few true friends I have ever had."

"We both will miss him dearly, you know that."

"We did have a hell of teenage years together down there in Norway. Or was it Virginia? I keep forgetting, never been to good at all these geography stuff. You, though, there was not a subject you couldn't master. Blew them all away with your mind at barely sixteen."

"What are you getting at, Giuseppe? I fail to see your point."

"I need you, Mikael. Down in Mystic Falls. You refused me once, I understand. But Esther is a grown woman now, you have sons to take care of her and the household. They will handle your absence well enough. Lord Mikael Mikaelson, I would name you the Hand of the King."

At these words Mikael immediately stood up and circled the table, coming to a stop in front of his king and sinking to his knees.

"I am not worthy of the honor, Your Grace," murmured he with false humility.

"I am not trying to honor you, I am trying to get you to run my kingdom while I indulge myself in a life of gluttony and debauchery," responded the monarch with a laugh "Damn it, fool, stand up. You are my oldest friend, you know that. You helped me win the Iron Throne, now help me keep the damn thing. We were meant to rule together. In fact, why not even make it official? I have a son; you have a daughter. We'll join our houses."

"Prince Damon do you mean?"

"Yes. Your daughter Rebekah is a very beautiful young woman, Mikael. She will fit very well into the capital and will make a fine queen someday. I am sure of it. Think about it, hm?" asked the King seriously with a raised eyebrow even if he knew it was an offer no Lord could ever refuse. "And now, pour me some more wine, it is not like I can judge its qualities by just one cup!"

Sir Silas Petrov was walking through the muddy streets of New Orleans, cursing silently under his breath. He hated everything about Louisiana: from its icing winds and striking coldness, its constant raining and lack of sunshine to the dirt underneath his boots and the muddiness one could not just avoid. He would have preferred a thousand times to remain in the capital and peacefully await the return of the King with or without a new addition to the small council. Sadly, his vows did not allow him this privilege. As an honored member of the King's Guard, he was required to follow his Grace everywhere, even in this awful good-for-nothing region. The least he could do, he reasoned, is find someone with whom to share his miserableness. His sister Tatia would fit just right into this role, if he could find her, that is.

Sighing, he entered into a suspiciously looking tavern and founded himself surrounded by all types of disgusting noises from drunken sulking to boisterous laughter and even some sensual and not so discreet moaning. Silas groaned, he hated mixing with those he considered inferior to him. His attention was quickly caught by a big company in the corner, though, as he heard a man- clearly drunk- exclaim:

"Did ya hear the King's is a guest at the Abattoir? Imagine the parties he must have prepared for him just now!"

"Nah, it couldn't be better than what we have here," answered another and laughter filled the room once more.

"What about ya, milady? You heard about the King?" the first man asked again, addressing a woman just out of Silas's line of sight.

"Aye, I might have heard some talk of that."

"And the King is not alone, mind you. And the Queen and her knight brother, they are all here. They say the Queen is the most beautiful woman in Westeros."

"Oh, and what about the Queen's sister? No talk of her?"

"The Queen has another sibling?"

"Aye, there is the knight brother, who is the youngest, mind you. And there is the Queens's twin sister. The Queen might be the pretty one, but she is the clever one, that's for sure."

"Mmm… you are talking about the Lady of Bulgaria."

"I hear she despises the title."

"We hear it is hers by right since her brother can't inherit with his position on the King's Guard."

"And what else have you heard about the Queen's sister?"

"We heard she is a drunken little whore, prone to all manners of perversions."

"Oh, really?" responded the woman, clearly amused.

"We have been expecting you, Lady Tatia," replied the man with a smile and moved to refill her empty cup. Tatia laughed and just moved to take a sip, when her brother cleared his throat from behind her.

"Sister," greeted her Silas as she turned to look at him across her shoulder. "Please, don't stop on my account," said he and crossed his arms in front of his chest in a sign of displeasure.

"Go away, brother, we are having fun here," responded an annoyed Tatia, rolled her eyes and turned back to her companions.

"Oh, I don't doubt you do, but our sister craves your attention and presence, darling," informed her Silas with a false smile.

"She has odd cravings, our sister," replied sarcastically Tatia and threw him a suggestive glance, which Silas preferred to ignore.

"C'mon, Tatia. The Mikaelsons are hosting a fest at sundown. Don't leave me alone with these people," pleaded her brother and moved to sit across from her, pouring himself a drink, completely ignoring her companions.

"I'm sorry, I have begun the feast a bit early, brother dear. I want to find out if it is true what they say about the northern men. People say they have the stamina of a bull," informed him Tatia with a twinkle in her eye and moved back suggestively, linking her arm through that of the man closest to her.

"Tatia," murmured her brother through gritted teeth,

"Fine, I'll be there," consented the Queen's sister as she stood up. "But you are paying for the room," she rolled her eyes and started towards the staircase in the end of the end of the hall, not letting go of the unknown man's hand, her intention clear enough.

"See you at sundown!" shouted her brother behind her but was regarded with nothing more than a wave of her hand.

Down in the cellars, King Giuseppe and his newly appointed Hand continued their merry little festive, surrounded by the best wine in the region and undisturbed by anyone else.

"Do you think we did the right thing? Deposing King William all these years ago?" asked an already tipsy King Giuseppe.

"What does it matter?" replied Mikael through laughter "The Forbes are gone now."

"He was a pervert and a madman," continued the monarch "But his heart was good. At least, so they say. I cannot accept an abomination as that to rule me. Sleeping with men… the whole act is against nature itself."

"He was weak. He couldn't lead this country. We did the right thing. Besides, what's done is done. Why go back and regret it now?"

"Not all Forbes are gone. His daughter is still alive," stated gravely Giuseppe and gave a pointed look at his friend. Mikael, unable to find a suitable response to this remark, just sighed deeply and took a sip from his cup, praying to the gods that Giuseppe is wrong and the girl will not cause them any troubles.

Far away from them, however, on the other side of the world and across the Narrow Sea, tucked away safely in Dallas, Caroline Forbes laid still. The young princess had spent her life in poverty and misery. She hardly remembered her father being just three years old at the time of the Rebellion. Her mother, the dethroned Queen Elizabeth, had told her tales of his gentle heart and noble nature. Whatever humiliations she must have suffered due to his preferences, she did not mention them to Caroline and all she knew about her father's peculiar affliction was from rumors and stories. Still, whatever he might have been, her father had saved her. When the Rebellion first began, he had immediately sent his wife and daughter away from the capital and towards the Isle of Whitmore, considered the safest fortress in the kingdom. When, the capital fell, his last order had been for the captain of his fleet to go to the Isle and take them to safety across the Narrow Sea. Since then, she and her mother had been on their own, relaying on just charity for support. They were currently residing in Dallas as guests of Alaric Saltzman, one of the city's wealthiest merchants, who had ensured them of the safety of his home and his support.

Elizabeth Forbes knocked gently on the door of her daughter's chamber and entered hesitantly after given permission. In her hands she carried a beautiful grey fabric, which could be made into an elegant dress, following the last southern fashion. Only, she was not happy for the occasion, which required such a fine dress.

"Caroline?" started her mother hesitantly "Where are you?"

"On the balcony, mother," came the soft voice of a young girl and then she appeared, dressed in a pale rose dress with her golden hair, flowing down her back.

"I am bringing you a gift from Alaric. An engagement one, so to say," Elizabeth motioned towards the fabric and Caroline took it, examining it quietly.

"It's very soft… and delicate. It must have cost a fortune," remarked Caroline, looking at her mother.

"Alaric is truly a graceful host. So gracious that I am starting to worry. We have been his guests for over a year and he's never asked us for anything."

"Alaric is no fool, mother. He knows we won't forget our friends when we take back what is ours. I only hope this wedding goes without disruption and I am to the liking of this wolf king," sighed Caroline and left the fabric on the table beside her. She then proceeded to stand in front of the mirror, examining her body and features.

"Oh, darling, of course you will be," replied her mother from behind her "How could you not? You have grown into such a beautiful and strong young woman."

"I need to look perfect today. We can't risk offending the wolves. We need them," stated Caroline with determination. "And when they write the history of our return to the throne, mother, they will say it began today."

Several hours later Caroline and her mother, joined by their host, stood in the gardens of Alaric Saltzman's rich estate, waiting for Caroline's intendent to arrive. The man in question was no other than Tyler Lockwood, the alpha of the great _Werewolf pack_, named after the mythological creature from which they claimed to descend. Myth aside, they were one of the biggest nomadic tribes there was. They honored the wolf as their totem animal and chief deity and were known for their always moving, if somewhat primitive way of life. Still, they were a force to be reckoned with. No one knew what exactly was the secret to the "wolves"- as they liked to call themselves- continuous military success but all knew that they had never lost an open field battle and that no matter their loses, their strength remained unchanged. In Westeros, they were treated as a myth; across the Narrow Sea- they inspired fear and caution everywhere they went.

"Where is he?" asked a nervous Elizabeth.

"The wolves are not known for their punctuality, but they will come, have no doubt," just as Alaric muttered these words of reassurance, a group of around twenty men appeared on the horizon. They were all bare-chested, their hair- short-cropped and most surprisingly, they were running barefoot. And unless they had horses hidden somewhere out of sight, this seemed to be their only mode of transportation. Still, they reached the Forbes in a record time. Once they did, Alaric stepped forward and said:

"My alpha, it is an honor that you deemed us worthy of your presence. Allow me to introduce you to my honored guests. This is Caroline of House Forbes, the first of her name, the rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men and her mother, Elizabeth of House Forbes."

Following his words, Caroline hesitantly stepped forward and neared the one, who she assumed was the leader of the men. He was not unhandsome. His features were precise and masculine, his muscles clearly visible thanks to his constant exercise. His hair and eyes were dark, almost black, but his skin was fair, even if tanned as expected of one spending the majority of his time outside. His chest was so covered in tattoos that hardly any skin was visible. There was something severe in his gaze, but Caroline preferred not to focus on it. Overall, he didn't look any different to her than any other man she had met.

The princess stopped midway, unsure of how close it was appropriate to go in public, but after a gentle nudge from Alaric, she took a few more steps and found herself face to face with the alpha. He was taller than her, giving her an air of superiority as he looked down on her. Yet, he didn't intimidate her, not really. Instead, Caroline returned his gaze just as confidently, not once moving her eyes away from his. They stood frozen like this for several moments, but for all Caroline cared it could have been hours, that's how long it felt like. Then, without saying a word, the alpha turned around, motioned to his men and they all were gone in the same manner as they had appeared. If she didn't know any better, Caroline would say they had not even been there at all.

"Where is he going?" exclaimed a nervous Elizabeth as she ran down the stairs towards the place her daughter was still standing.

"The ceremony is over, Your Grace," explained Alaric calmly.

"But he… he didn't say anything. Did he like her?"

"Trust me, Your Grace, if he didn't like her, we would know." Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond to this comment, but was cut off by her daughter.

"Did you see how his chest was covered in ink, mother?"

"What— yes, Caroline, I did notice—" stuttered Elizabeth, unsure what Caroline wanted to achieve with this question.

"When the wolves win a battle, they memorize it by writing it down on their skin. Tyler Lockwood has never lost since becoming an alpha. His way of living is savage, of course, but he is one of the most capable leaders of our time. And I will be his Queen," finished Caroline with something akin to determination in her voice. True, she herself was still coming to terms with the whole idea of the arranged marriage, but she was sure to make the best of a bad situation. "When will we be married?" asked she, turning to Alaric.

"Soon, milady, the wolves never stay still for long," then after a pause, he continued "You don't have to worry, milady, it won't be long now. Soon you will cross the Narrow Sea and take back your father's throne. The people in Westeros drink secret toasts to your health. The moment they see you, they will cry out for their true Queen."

"Is it true what they say? That these men can turn into true wolves?"

"I wouldn't count on it," Alaric paused again, thinking his words carefully over. "Here in these regions we have many superstitions, milady. Many people claim to have seen wonders, to be able to perform magic and what so more. If you took each of these for truth, then a normal human being would be considered for a rarity."

"Do you think me naïve, Alaric?"

"I think you gentle and wholehearted as your mother, my Queen. You are predisposed to search for the good in people and thus, can fail to see their true intentions. My apologies, if I have given offense."

"I know much about cruel men, Alaric. I have, after all, lived my whole life in exile because of one. You don't have to worry about me," she sighed and then continue "Besides, I know how to navigate allies like the wolves. I will give their alpha a mate, their pack- a Queen and in return, they will give me their loyalty."

"Caroline, you don't have to marry him if you don't want to," suddenly inserted Elizabeth who had finally gathered courage to tell her daughter her real opinion. "You don't have to sell yourself to that man. We will find another way to get home."

"There is no other way, mother," responded Caroline harshly. "And I am tired of this life, tired of moving from city to city without a place to call ours. Most of all in this world I want to go home. I know you want that, too. You want for us both to go home. But they took it for us. So how will we return to it? With an army. There is no other way. Tyler Lockwood will give me that army. I don't care if I have to marry him. I wouldn't care if I had to marry all of his men. And I don't even care if he can turn into a wolf. I would do whatever it takes to be back where we belong," finished the princess, staring into the sea horizon towards the land, which was hers by right.

Back in the Abattoir, the preparations for the upcoming feast in honor of the royal family were underway. Servants were running across the yard, carrying trays with food and drinks, Lady Esther was overseeing the decorations, the children were sent into their rooms to prepare and Mikael and Giuseppe had locked themselves away in the wine cellar, warming up with a welcoming drink- or few- before the celebrations had even begun.

It was because of this haste that no one noticed Elijah Mikaelson as he made his way through the Abattoir in the direction of the weaponry. He kind of relied on that, really, because his mother would have his head off if she learned that he was out polishing his sword instead of preparing for tonight. But Elijah, in his dignified fashion, was already ready: he had bathed prior to his siblings, his new suit was laid out on his bed and he had styled his hair before going out. Thus, he thought it wouldn't be a problem for him to sneak out- something he almost never had to do- and take care of his sword in the time he would otherwise spent reading. Not that he did not like reading, he was probably the most educated man his age in the kingdom. It was just that he had left it in a haste after he and Niklaus ventured out this morning and his inherent tidiness didn't allow him to rest before he made sure it was ready for his next outing. What he really didn't expect, however, was to find someone already occupying the room.

Princess Katerina was not your typical princess. Sure, she smiled and acted all demure in public under her mother's watchful eyes, but there was a rebellious flame in her soul which did not allow her to rest and settle down for a quiet life. She sought the passion, adventure and excitement in life. So her family should not have been surprised, really, when she sneaked out of her rooms while she was supposed to be getting ready for the ball. She wanted to explore the Abattoir on her own, find the places princesses are not typically shown to. That's how she found herself in the weaponry. Of course, if her mother saw her now, she would get an earful. Princesses are not violent. Princesses are not interested in swordsmanship. Princesses don't carry weapons. That had been one of the biggest ongoing disputes they had and it had started ever since Katerina mentioned that she would like to learn to use a sword. Needlessly to say, her request was denied. Ever since she had made the effort to keep her interests discreet as not to annoy her mother unnecessary and was really hoping that no one would walk in to find her inside this place. These hopes went to hell when she heard the heavy wooden door crack open.

The next seconds happened too fast for Elijah to process all at once. One moment he was opening the door to the weaponry and noticing someone else's present, then he heard a scared female shriek, a sword´s clanging as it fell to the ground and before he realizes what is happening he is being passed by a huge expensive dress, a shying away head, crowned with a massive dark-brownish curly hair. A rather distinctive dark-brownish curly hair. Elijah managed to catch the princess´s arm just before she reached the door.

¨Your Highness? Please, don't run, I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't startle me, milord," said the princess hastily, refusing to look at him "Well, you did, but you couldn't have known I was inside. Please, let me be on my way, so that I may not be an inconvenience to you while you proceed with your work."

"Princess Katerina, I ensure you, you could not be an inconvenience even if you tried. I was just surprised to find you here, that's all."

"Why because I am a woman?" responded the princess, biting her lip immediately. Now she had fucked up big time. There was no way to he was going to let this slide now. Elijah looked startled at her, although she still refused to return his gaze and stuttered for words.

"No, not because you are a woman, milady. My own sister Freya comes here frequently enough to tend to her bow and arrows. I was surprised because I thought everyone was busy preparing for the feast, that's all." For the first time Katerina allowed herself to look at the man who had caught her in action. He was handsome, true, and his words sounded sincere, but she still had to make sure that he will not rattle her out. Besides, if everyone was supposed to be getting ready, then what was he doing there in the first place?

"Oh, and what are you doing here then instead of preparing?" asked the princess.

"I can ask you the same thing," answered Elijah with a raised eyebrow.

"Fine," sighed Katerina and rolled her eyes "I sneaked in, okay? I was just curious to see if it is true that the Mikaelsons possess some of the finest swords ever made," she shrugged. "Now is your turn."

"I wanted to clean my sword because I hardly had time in the morning and would hate to see it ruined due to lack of precision," he then paused and bit his lip. Now was his opportunity to get to know the princess "So what do you say: if you stay and keep me company while I work on my sword, I will make sure not to mention this encounter to neither of our parents?"

"What makes you think my parents don't know where I am?" responded Katerina with narrowed eyes. It was a bluff but she was not ready to trust him just yet. She had to give him credit, though, he had figured her out quite easily.

"Because you are a lady and a princess. Because my sister always makes sure that mother will not find out when she comes here. Because you clearly hoped to make your exit without being recognized. I can go on if you wish, but I think it hardly matters.

"And what about you? What makes you think I won't rattle you out that you are here instead of preparing. You seemed quite worried when you said you didn't expect to find anyone in here."

"I am a man. You can rattle me out, as you so delicately put it, but I doubt my punishment will be as severe as yours."

"Blackmailing now, milord? Not a very gentlemanly thing to do," Katerina realized she quite enjoyed riling this man up. It was a rarity to find someone who matched her mind so naturally.

"Lurking in the weaponry is not very lady-like either, princess." Normally Elijah would be very offended if someone dared to insinuate that he was anything but the perfect gentleman he strived to be, but he saw the teasing glint in Katerina's eyes and decided that this game was worth keeping up.

"Then I think we have a deal, Lord...?" concluded Katerina and felt a small smile rising to her lips. This man was something indeed.

"Mikaelson. Elijah Mikaelson, heir of the Abattoir. But you can call me Elijah."

"Very well, Elijah, you better make it worth my time. Now, where is that sword of yours?" Just then Katerina realized that he had held her hand through their whole exchange ever he stopped her from leaving. Blushing heavily, she turned around to head back deeper into the weaponry, only looking behind her to see if he was following.

An hour later and Elijah's sword was not only perfectly clean and polished, but he had come to know the princess was a very interesting companion, who was always able to insert something different to the topic and contribute to the conversation by sharing her own thoughts of the matter. In fact, he found her opinionative character, especially where women and their place in society was concerned, quite endearing. He almost wished that their time together didn't come to an end.

"And with this, I am finished, Your Highness," declared Elijah after adding final touches to his weapon. "Thank you very much for the company, I truly appreciate it."

"Please, the pleasure was all mine, Elijah. And I told you already, call me Katerina," she responded with a genuine smile. "Honestly, I do not wish to go just now, but I am afraid I have some more preparations to complete before tonight."

"I understand perfectly, Katerina, as I am afraid it is the same for me." With a nod Katerina stood up and headed towards the door, stopping just a step away from it.

"Elijah?" she addressing him, looking over her shoulder at him "Why did you let me stay? Despite what I might argue or say, this is no place for a woman."

"Well, I think you deserved it if you went through all the trouble of sneaking in and risking your mother's wrath in the first place," shrugged Elijah "I know the Abattoir by hand and I had a hard time to ensure I was not seen, I can't imagine how you managed it. Besides, after seeing how enthusiastic are you about swords, and weapons in general, I am really glad I did."

"So you were never going to rattle me out in the first place?" asked a curious Katerina.

"I never said that, did I?" teased her Elijah, which provoked a small laugh to escape her lips. Elijah's heart skipped a beat at the sound of it and of knowing that he was the reason behind it. "Go on now, Your Highness, and tread carefully. I will you at the feast tonight," he implored her and with a nod Katerina was gone through the door in less than a blink of an eye. Elijah sighed and ran his hand over his face. He had no idea what was he doing, but he was so looking forward to tonight.

And while Princess Katerina might not have been very interested in her appearance at the feast, the same could not be said about the young Rebekah Mikaelson. Barely fifteen, she had grown tall for her age and her womanly beauty was already starting to show. She had notably caught the eye of some of the more prominent northern suitors and some of the southern lord's as well. Most distinctively her latest flirt had been with no other than Marcel Gerard, her father's ward, which had angered her brothers enormously. Yet, now she had turned her attention elsewhere.

"Do you think Prince Damon will like me?" asked she her mother, who was helping her prepare her hair for the fest. "What if he thinks I am ugly?"

"Then he is the stupidest Prince that ever lived," answered Esther with a small smile, while pinning down a few golden locks of Rebekah's hair.

"He is so handsome…" observed Rebekah "When will we be married? Soon? Or do we have to wait?"

"Hush, Rebekah, your father hasn't even said yes!"

"But why would he say no? He'd be the second most powerful man in the kingdom. And you know father deserves it," remarked Rebekah with the conviction of still an innocent little girl.

"You understand what that means though, don't you? You both will have to leave home. You will have to leave me. I don't know about you but I will miss you, sweetie."

"I would miss you, too, but, mom, you left your home as a girl to come here and get married. Do you regret it?"

"Of course not."

"See? And if I marry Damon, I would be Queen someday," Rebekah paused and turned so she can face her mother face to face. "Please, make father say yes! Please, please! It's the only thing I ever wanted!"

"Rebekah… I am not sure that you understand what you are asking…" sighed Esther and did not say anything else until it was time for both of them to join their family downstairs in the hall.

"Shit, ugh, oh—shit, Kol c'mon, quickly. We can't be more late than we already are," cursed Klaus as he was trying- unsuccessfully- to sneak through the corridors of the Abattoir with his youngest brother, following in tow. Finally, though, after what felt like ages for the brothers, they reached a tick wooden door and barged right through it without hesitation. Subtlety was not a quality they possessed.

"Aaaaargh!" came a terrified female scream from the inside and the girl, who had previously lied on the spacious king bed, sprung to her feet, ready to attack. Seeing it was only her brothers though, she relaxed, but didn't remained standing, bringing her hands behind her back and starting to scream "You morons! How can you barge into my room just like that! Don't you have at least an idea about privacy?!"

Kol and Klaus looked at each other sheepishly and shrugged. They couldn't really what the big deal was about. It wasn't like Freya was indecent or something.

"Ts, ts, sister. Can't you see? We are expected in the great hall in less than five and as your most beloved brothers, we were concerned about your absence so we decided to come and check for ourselves if you are ready."

"By barging into my room?" continued to scream Freya. If Esther had not by now realized where her sons had gone off too, she now surely knew. "You wanted to check if I was dressed but didn't even thought about knocking?"

"Didn't think the details over," shrugged Klaus again before moving inside and popping a grape from the dish onto her table into his mouth. "What is the big deal about, anyways? Geez, it is almost like what you were doing was forbidden or something," at that remark he actually took the time to closer into his sister's stance and noticed her rigid posture and her hands, suspiciously gripping something behind her back. "Wait a minute! You were!" pointed out Klaus with accusation.

"What? Of course, I wasn't—" but her objection was cut out by Kol who had inwardly moved behind his sister and managed to slip the book from her hands "Hey, give that back!" shouted Freya again and took off running after Kol around the bed, desperately fighting back for her book. Her efforts turned out completely fruitless as the book found itself right into Klaus's hands just a minute later after a perfect good throw from his younger brother.

"Let's see what do we have here," started an amused Klaus "charm amulets, love potions, rain enchantments… really, Freya, I didn't know you were so into superstitions," he continued reading though and soon felt his face fell "Freya, how serious is this exactly?" asked her brother with a grave tone.

"Give. It. Back," hissed Freya as she tried to snack it away from him, but Klaus didn't bulge and, using his height for his advantage, held it just out of her reach. Yet, to his own surprise, he didn't feel joy at watching her jump to reclaim her possession. It only filled him with dread.

"I am serious, Freya. How long has this been going on and from where did you get this book?"

"Fine," relented his sister through gritted teeth. "Aunt Dahlia gifted it to me on her last visit. She said that I had to keep it secret from mom or she would take it away. I have been studying it ever since, but don't worry I haven't tried anything," the _yet _at the end of the sentence hanged in the air despite remaining unsaid.

"Aunt Dahlia's last visit? Shit, Freya, that was almost a year ago!"

"So what? I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Magic spellcasting is illegal, Freya! Who knows what can happen if they catch you with that thing! They will accuse of being a witch and no one will listen to— you know what, I should go to mom right this minute and tell her about this nonsense before it has gone too far!"

"What, no, Klaus, you can't!" whined Freya and caught her brother's arm to prevent him from leaving "Please, Klaus, you need to understand me. I am not Rebekah. I can't sew or draw or be a proper lady. But I am not a boy either and I can't run around with swords and horses. This… this is something that actually feels right for me. I can be a healer someday. I can help people. I know that people perceive it as dangerous but I am not about to start making sacrifices to the dark forces. And I do believe there must be some level of truth to it."

Klaus sighed and lowered the book until it was on the same level as her hands, yet she made no move to forcefully take it. "Does this really mean so much to you?"

"Yes."

"Then, I guess you can have it," replied her brother and stared deeply into her eyes "But Freya, you need to promise me not to do anything radical or reckless."

"I promise," easily responded Freya and finally took her book back, a small smile creeping onto her lips.

"Good," nodded Klaus "Now that this is settled, we are already late and mother will have our heads for it. Kol and I will go downstairs now and try to win you several minutes, but it will be no more than five, so you better be fast," he then motioned to his brother and moved to the door. "Oh, and Kol, before I forget, not a word of this exchange to anyone, okay? It will be our little secret," the boy nodded vigorously and Klaus ruffled his hair with affection before they finally made their exit and headed downstairs to face their family.

Hours later in the great hall, the feast was going on full speed. Chatter and laughter filled the room, even if they were difficult to hear because of the music, which couples used as an opportunity to get closer to the object of their affection through dancing. The cups were not left empty, nor the tables lacking. Lady Esther had made sure of that. The one who was having the most fun was probably the King himself, who, after arriving already intoxicated, was busy groping and dancing with every servant girl who crossed his way. And the ones Giuseppe didn't like well enough for himself, he passed to his men. He even tried to set Mikael up with one despite hearing numerous times that the Lord was not interested and was fine with just drinking more wine. Of course, Giuseppe couldn't care less about who was witnessing his antics. Even the presence of the Queen herself on the High table was not enough to discourage him from pursuing every woman he saw.

As for Amara, she pretended not to notice. She smiled and she laughed and she performed the part of the gentle Queen as perfectly and as demurely as possible. She had long since learned not to entangle herself into her husband's affairs. Not only did it not bode well for her at all when she did so, but also Giuseppe having company meant that he was not likely to search for her this evening. And if there was one thing she hated most in her life, it was having to share a bed with her husband.

"Is this your first time in Louisiana, Your Grace?" asked Esther politely to strike up a conversation with the Queen and thus distracted Amara from her musings.

"Yes. It is a lovely country," the Queen smiled demurely at her hostess and hoped that the other woman would not notice the falseness of her words. Truthfully, she held nothing but disdain for this godforsaken place, but would never say so openly in front of Mikaelsons.

"I am sure it is very grim after Mystic Falls. I remember how scared I was when Mikael brought me up here for the first time, but after a while-" whatever reassurances Lady Esther had planned to offer the Queen were cut short, as Amara chose this moment to drastically change the subject.

"I hear we might share a grandchild someday. Surely your husband has found the time to confide in you about Giuseppe's plans before the feast?"

"Yes, Your Grace, I heard the same," replied Esther with tension in her voice.

"In that case I would love to meet your daughter. If that is acceptable, of course," inserted the Queen with false hesitancy, knowing full well that her request could not be denied.

"Of course, Your Grace," nodded Esther with just a small amount of displeasure and immediately ordered one of the servants to fetch Rebekah. The girl appeared in less than two minutes, visibly shaken at being summoned in front of the Queen.

"Hello, sweetheart," started Amara gently "You are indeed a great beauty," she praised her "How old are you?"

"Fifteen, Your Grace," answered Rebekah proudly.

"You are tall for your age. Still growing?"

"I think so, Your Grace."

"And have you bled yet?" For a moment this caught Rebekah out of guard as she didn't expect such a brazen question and she glanced at her mother for support. After an encouraging nod from Esther, she continued:

"Yes, Your Grace. About a year ago for the first time."

"Good, good," responded Amara, noting it for herself "And your dress, did you make it?"

"Yes, I just finished it in time," answered Rebekah immediately, grateful that the conversation had moved on now and feeling more comfortable.

"Such talent," praised Amara "You must make something for me one day."

After this comment Rebekah was released from the Queen's company and she quickly ran off towards her own table with the intention to share everything with her friends. From then on until the rest of the evening she would not so subtly glance towards the direction of Prince Damon and she could swear she felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the sight of his smile. In the meantime, Amara turned towards Esther:

"Your daughter will do well in the capital. Such beauty shouldn't stay hidden up here forever." If Lady Esther was offended by the comment, her face did not betray it. Instead she just smiled at the Queen, thanked her for the kind words and drank from her cup, knowing fully well that the night was not even nearly over.

Only one person didn't seem to be enjoying the celebration. Klaus Mikaelson was very much used to being the outsider. By now his parentage was one of the most well-known secrets of the kingdom, so there was rarely a place where he went that he wasn't looked upon with distrust and disgust. _As if it is my fault, my mother lied with a man who was not her husband_, thought Klaus bitterly, thinking back to the snickering looks the king had given him in the beginning of the evening. _I don't even know who my real father is, goddammit! _cursed Klaus under his breath and swung his sword at the already ruined training scarecrow. The poor thing was bearing this treatment throughout the whole evening already, no wonder it barely stood straight anymore. In fact, he was so absorbed by his anger, that he hardly felt someone approach him until it was too late.

"Is he dead yet?" asked the stranger teasingly as he jumped from his horse and quickly dismounted. He didn't look tired despite having travelled nearly the whole day to get there. Klaus turned around abruptly, a biting remark already on his lips when he noticed who the man was.

"Vicente? Vicente Cruz?" asked an astonished Klaus and quickly set his sword aside and moved freely towards the other man. "Can't believe I am actually seeing you here, godfather!" exclaimed he, hugging the traveler tightly. A laugh escaped Vicente's lips as they separated and took a moment to look at the boy in front of him.

"You've gotten stronger!" completed he the youth, knowing how something so simple is able to lift the spirits of young boys. "You look like a proper man now! It's good to see you, albeit the reason is less so. Yet, it couldn't wait, I needed to speak with your father urgently; I rode all day without a stop," he then stuffed a laugh again and something twinkled in his eyes "Besides, I could hardly leave you all alone with the Petrovas. I ain't sure if I am here for the fun of watching the Queen shoot daggers at both the King and your father when they drink too much or to provide moral supports for you and your siblings when encountering the sheer arrogance of these people but in any way this visits is something I wouldn't want to miss," he then stared at the distance towards the entrance of the keep from where they could still here loud music coming and his brow wrinkled "Which reminds me, why aren't you at the feast, son?"

"I was, I just left it already," shrugged Klaus in an attempt to downplay his actions. At his godfather's arched brow and pointed look, however, he had no choice but to elaborate "I couldn't bare their hateful looks any longer. It was as if my whole presence there was offending the highborn guests. Mother noticed it, too, I am sure. Can't say about Mikael, but even if he did, he was too deep in his cups to say something. I figured out it would be best to come here outside now before my anger boils and I do something stupid like pick up a fight with some highborn Lord," he then bit his lip and added more quietly. "And it is not like they are not right, I am but a bastard after all.' At his words, Vicente took in a sharp breath, clearly thinking about what would be best to say to comfort him. He would never voluntary lie to him, or any member of the Mikaelson family for this matter, but in the same time he couldn't with a clear consciousness let the matter be.

"Ah," he sighed but then brightened up again in a moment, when an idea occurred to him "Well, you know, you'd always be welcome on the Wall. No bastard was ever refused a seat there and you are just what the Brotherhood needs right now. You could have a good future there."

"So, take me with you when you go back!" replied Klaus with an enthusiasm which threw Vicente out of guard. Truthfully, he didn't expect the boy to be so amiable to the idea.

"Klaus…" started Vicente with an intention to apologize since he realized the moment was all but suitable to discuss such matters, but Klaus didn't give him this chance, ignoring him in favor of continuing to talk.

"Mikael will let me if you ask him, I know it. He has waited for me to be out of his hair for years now," he pleaded.

"The Wall isn't going anywhere," sighed Vicente "Don't make haste decisions you might regret when you are older."

"But I am ready!" argued Klaus passionately "I am ready to swear your oath."

"I don't think you understand what you will be giving up," responded Vicente gently, trying not to let the boy down too harshly. "You can never have a normal family with us. You can hold no lands. You can't father legitimate children-" elaborated the older man with a hint of sadness, but was again rudely interrupted.

"I don't care! It is not like I am planning to have a flog of children anyway!"

"You might start to, though, one day. I still maintain that you don't truly understand the meaning of not having a family to call your own." Both remained quiet after this remark, a staring match silently taking place between them. Finally, Vicente looked away in a sign of surrender. He hadn't come to fight. "I will be getting inside. Time to rescue your father from his guests. Will you be joining me?"

"Maybe later," replied Klaus with a fake smile and as Vicente turned to leave, he thought he heard Niklaus whisper "He is not my father," but he let it slide, turning only one final time to address him.

"We will talk later about this business with the Wall. Don't despair but don't lift your spirits too high either. I still think you have to wait a few more years before you join." Yet, Klaus didn't regard him with anything but a nod and with a sigh Vicente made his way inside alone.

"Your godfather is part of the Brotherhood," a female voice observed from behind Klaus, causing him to turn around once more and face the new intruder. Tatia smirked as she saw the confusion, written on his face, and moved closer, making sure to swing her hips a little more as she did so. She was curious and, since she had nothing better to do, she might as well test the boy's limits.

"Milady," greeted Klaus politely with a small bow "What are you doing back there?" enquired he.

"Preparing for a night with your family," replied Tatia teasingly and raised her filled cup in a salute before taking a sip. "Do you know who I am?" asked she with an eyebrow before taking a sip once more "Guess it doesn't matter anyway. You know, I have always wanted to see the Wall," observed she dreamily, staring into the nothingness.

"Well, you look like the Queen but you don't speak like her. So, I will take my wild guess and say you are Lady Tatia Petrova," responded Klaus with humor in his voice. He didn't know what game was she playing but he might as well try to enjoy it while they are at it. And she was easy on the eye, too, with her expensive furs and colorful dress. "You are the Queen's twin sister."

"My greatest accomplishment," bitterly said Tatia and almost turned to leave before smirking and thinking of a better way to return the biting remark. "And you, you are Esther's bastard, aren't you?" unlike her, however, Klaus didn't have such a good grip on his temper and turned to leave before he said or did something that would shame his family before the royals. After all, Tatia was not only a woman but the Queen's sister, he could not afford to offend or harm her in any way. Unfortunately for him, Tatia was not ready to let him go that easily now that she had finally found some entertainment in her evening.

"Did I offend you? Sorry," called she unapologetically and moved to follow him, not letting the distance between them to become big. "It is the truth, though. You are a bastard," she shrugged.

"Lady Esther Mikaelson is my mother," said Klaus through gritted teeth and opened his mouth to continue but Tatia raised her hand and interrupted him.

"But Lord Mikael is not your father. Hold your breath, boy. Everybody can see it. And this makes you the bastard," purred she and moved to circle him, captivating his attention with each of her movements. Klaus licked his lips unconsciously. This woman was something different all together. "Now, since I am in a good mood," she came to a stop in front of him and smirked "let me give you some advice, bastard," she paused to make sure he is listening "Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like an armor instead and this way it could never be used to hurt you."

"And what do you know about being a bastard?" asked Klaus with a low voice, taking a step forward and thus entering her personal space. Yet, Tatia was not intimidated in the slightest and continued to hold his gaze.

"They call me the Slut. My family treats me no better than a bastard for that. Apparently freedom of choice is not something a woman is allowed to want in this age," she took a step back then and turned around, starting to wall back towards the direction of the keep. When she felt that he hadn't followed, however, she stopped and looked back through her shoulder "Now stop sulking here and come inside. Imagine the look on their faces when they see the Slut and the Bastard entering together. We'll make quite the scandal, I tell you. If nothing else, we can revel in a gossip for the whole of next week," she turned before waiting for his reply but smirked when she heard him putting his sword away and following her nevertheless.

Meanwhile inside Vicente had managed to make his way to where Mikael was drinking with the officers and dignitaries of Giuseppe's army. He was grateful that the King was currently not there for that would have made his desire to talk with Mikael privately harder.

"My goddeness, Mikael, you old dog!" exclaimed he as he neared the table "I don't think I have seen you at a feast since the Rebellion!" he clasped the other man's shoulder, causing him to turn and stand up abruptly.

"Vicente, my old friend! It's so good to see you here!" Mikael then moved to embrace him and whispered in his ear "We have much to talk about. Come," and with this, he pulled his friend by the arm towards a pillar next to which they could converse in relative privacy. "I have had something bothering me for a while now," he hesitated and then asked "The boy I beheaded… did you know him?"

"Of course I did. He was just a lad. But he was tough, Mikael, and had potential," Mikael scoffed at these words and replied with mockery in his voice.

"Yeah? Is that why he was talking madness? He claimed vampires slaughtered his companions. I refuse to believe it."

"Well, the people who he was with, are still missing," replied Vicente with a shrug. "Nobody can know for sure what happened,"

"A wildling ambush. That is what happened and that is what we have to believe happened!" stated Mikael gravely, the tone of his voice showing that he would not accept different opinion. Then, he added more calmly "I don't know what we'll do otherwise."

"Maybe you are right. I hope you are. But things are shifting, Mikael. Winter animals start to migrate south of the Wall, talk of vampires, and one of my closest friends might be the next Hand of the King. Winter is coming," he paused then, looking at his friend intensely "You know what that means, don't you? Now more than ever should we stay together. What were Esther's words for such occasion? Always and forever?"

"Always and forever," affirmed Mikael with a little mockery in his voice. He hardly believed in the truth behind this motto but for tonight he would humor his friend into pretending he did. Besides, Vicente was as close if not closer to Esther as he was to him and Mikael didn't want to alienate his wife more than necessary for now even if he hardly cared for her opinion anymore. Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted, however, by another approaching the pair,

"Godfather!" greeted the newcomer, enveloping Vicente in a hug.

"Elijah, boy. God, you have gotten strong," exclaimed Vicente with a smile and clasped the young man's shoulders. "How have you been?"

"Good. I am good. I have much to tell you, though…" and with that the two moved fell into a long conversation and moved towards one of the nearest tables, leaving Mikael alone with his thoughts. Just as he thought to move back to his drinking companions, however, another approached him.

"Lord Mikael," cheerfully called Silas as he moved so he was blocking the other man's path. That didn't impress the other man much as he tried to go around him, but Silas didn't move.

"Your pardon," he said through gritted teeth and stared Silas dead in the eye, hoping the resentfulness he would find there will be enough to discouraging him from continuing the conversation. Sadly, he had no such luck.

"I hear that we might be neighbors soon when you move into the Palace back in the capital. I truly hope it is true," continued the knight gleefully with such fake joy that it was practically dripping from his teeth.

"Yes, the King has honored me with his offer," replied Mikael stiffly, looking around the hall for a possible escape.

"Wonderful! I am sure now that the King will hold a tournament to celebrate your new post. I hope you won't refuse to participate! It will be good to have you on the field. The competition has become a bit stale."

"I don't fight in tournaments."

"No? But that's so unfortunate. Why if I may ask? Feeling a little old for it?" asked Silas with a fake concern

"I don't fight in tournaments, because when I fight a man for real, I don't want him to know what I can do."

"Oh, well said, milord. Well said," replied Silas and clasped his shoulder. Yet, as some of the prior cheerfulness left the knight's demeanor, Mikael couldn't help but feel glad that he had come out as the winner in this little encounter.

Having escaped Mikael's critical watchful eyes, Elijah was enjoying the pleasant conversation with his godfather at the other end of the hall. The two men hadn't seen each other for a long time, so they had much to share and much to discuss. That didn't stop Elijah on being on edge, however, as there was one whose appearance he awaited the whole night. Up to this moment, however, she either had managed to escape his line of vision or simply hadn't appeared yet. He hoped that it was the later and she had not avoided him. Just as the thought of the princess crossed his mind again, he felt another presence approaching him and Vicente.

"Ah, good evening, Trevor," cordially Elijah greeted the newcomer. Honestly, he wasn't a big fan of the man, but Trevor was the son of one of the lesser Louisianan nobles and thus, he had to tolerate him for his family's sake. "I am pleased you could join us."

"I couldn't miss the King's welcome celebration, my lord" responded Trevor in turn. "Excuse me for the interruption," started he, while glancing at Vicente "but would it be possible to have a word in private?" Elijah merely raised his eyebrow, his distaste for the man stopping him from accepting immediately, but his godfather took the hint and, drowning his wine, excused himself with the excuse of going to get another cup. When the two lords found themselves alone, Elijah turned to Trevor:

"May I enquire what is the matter which requires my immediate attention?" he tried to sound as polite as possible, even if his voice was dripping with coldness.

"Yes, my lord. You see, there is a girl on the other side of the hall, asking after all. She is quite charming, I must say. I don't think you want to miss this."

"Oh? And where is the mystery girl of which you speak?" enquired Elijah, his curiosity pecked up a little.

"Right this way," answered Trevor and motioned for the other man to follow him, which Elijah reluctantly did. True to Trevor's word, they reached the other end of the hall, where several of the women from the capital- the Queen's entourage- were positioned. They were idly chattering between themselves and in the loud noise which their intertwined voices created, Elijah failed to notice the particular group towards they were heading.

"My dear," addressed Trevor one of the women, causing her to turn around. The moment their eyes met, Elijah felt his breath getting caught in his throat. Princess Katerina looked even lovelier than she did this afternoon. Her hair was pulled up in an intricate hairstyle, her curls falling just enough to frame her face, but leaving her neck and collarbone visible. Her dress was dark brown with red threads woven into it, its material clearly expansive while not light as to withstand the colder northern weather. A heavy gold necklace was gracing her neck and matching earrings were visible on her ears. Yet, it was not the beauty of this attire, which got almost all men, looking in the direction of the princess. Instead, it was her smile, which radiated light and happiness and which had the power to enchant even the most devoted abstainer.

"Hello," greeted Katerina with twinkling eyes and copper voice. Apparently, she had not told Trevor of her title yet, as seen by his careless familiarity, and couldn't wait for the reaction which was surely to follow. After all, Elijah knew perfectly well who she was.

"Katerina, may I introduce the Lord Elijah," started Trevor, before being cut short by Elijah.

"That won't be necessary, Trevor," responded he a little harshly, not taking his eyes of Katerina "We already know each other," he then allowed for a small smile to light up his face "Unless, of course, I am not mistaken and you just remind me of another very proper and very well-behaved lady I met just this afternoon," he continued, attempting to joke, and stressing on the "very proper" and "very well-behaved" part. And while Trevor didn't notice the remark at all, Katerina did and let a laugh to escape her lips.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, my lord," she remarked and outstretched her hand for Elijah to take. He then took her hand and bowed, placing a kiss on her delicate knuckles.

"The pleasure is all mine, my princess."

"Please, Elijah, I think we both agreed to stop with this title nonsense," reprimanded a smiling Katerina and moved to take the hand with which he was offering to escort her further into the hall. Neither of them payed much attention to Trevor, who, after hearing that he was addressing the royal princess all along, was left gawking behind the couple.

Half an hour later and they were still chatting animatedly. They had covered almost every topic imaginable: from tournaments and fashion to politics, history and philosophy their conversation seemed to flow just a naturally on every matter. Right now they were on the subject of family.

"Oh, and where is this serious brother I am hearing so much about?" asked a teasing Katerina "The way you speak about him makes me want to meet him."

"I would say fashionably late, if he hadn't made his appearance for the night already. In this case, I would bet that he is off sulking somewhere, exaggerating his own loneliness," answered Elijah with bitterness "But fear not, he will come back, he always does eventually. In fact—" he paused and narrowed his eyes "In fact, if I am not mistaken, he is just entering from that door over there," at that he outstretched his hand to point in the correct direction "and he is not alone," he added.

"No," affirmed Katerina "He is with my aunt," stated she, causing them to exchange bewildered looks. Neither seemed to believe the pair which now made its way towards them was real. Elijah seemed to be the first to recover, however, and when his brother was within hearing distance, he said:

"Katerina, my princess, may I introduce to you the Lord Niklaus Mikaelson, my brother."

"My princess," greeted Klaus and bowed to kiss her hand, but not before glancing at Elijah with humor in his eyes. His brother sighed inwardly. There was no way Niklaus would let the matter go now, especially not in the light of their earlier conversation. Thank god, he didn't know about this afternoon or Elijah honestly wouldn't have heard the end of it. "And please, Niklaus is the name my father gave me. Call me Klaus," he then flashed her a charming smile before turning to his brother and Lady Tatia who was still standing on his side, silently observing the situation. Her eyes held a knowing glim and she was curious to see how the events would enfold. "And this, brother, is Lady Tatia Petrova, the Lady of Bulgaria. My lady, my brother Lord Elijah Mikaelson, heir of the Abattoir." Elijah kissed the Lady's hand just as well, but didn't make a move to say anything else, unsure of how to proceed now after the arrival of the newcomers. Seeing that, Klaus decided to take the matters into his own hands. "So how do you find New Orleans so far, princess?"

"It is a very pleasant place, my lord, and everyone has been so welcoming. It is only pity, that the weather is so cold. It would have been lovely to be able to explore the countryside on horseback. We used to do it all the time in Bulgaria."

"Did you visit often while you were a child?" inserted Elijah, wishing to learn more about her.

"I grew up there in the care of my grandfather," replied the princess with a fond smile.

"I heard that the region produces one of the strongest alcoholic drinks, known to man," added Klaus with laugh "What was it called? Rakia? They say it is enough to knock down a fully grown man within seconds." At that remark the princess and her aunt both let a heartfelt laugh before the princess responded:

"That's correct. Very good, my lord. But let me tell where your theory falls flat. Please enlighten me how is it possible for the drink to knock down two full grown men, yet both me and my aunt have tried it without any lasting damage striking us?" she laughed again, and so did Klaus, before turning to steal a glance at Elijah. He flashed her an encouraging smile and that caused her own to widen even more. This was not left unnoted by Klaus, who, knowing very well that his brother will not dare make a move without a little prompting, decided to provoke him. With that thought in mind and a smirk, he turned towards Elijah:

"Would you mind terribly, brother, if I were to steal the Princess for a dance?" then as if oblivious to the tension this question caused to the conversation, her turned towards Katerina "If, of course, the Princess is agreeable?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lord," responded Katerina politely.

"Then, please, by all means, go ahead," urged Elijah with a tight smile. He could see that his brother had something in mind, even if he wasn't exactly sure what, and that put him at unease. Yet, he couldn't do anything but stare after the pair of them as they made their way across the world towards the dance floor.

Later that night, when everyone had officially gone to bed but the night was still young enough for those who wished to stay awake, Elijah walked the distance towards his brother's chamber. He barged in determinately, but the sight which greeted him caught him out of guard and he halted his steps. There was Klaus, clearly deep into his cups, laughing whole-heartedly with the Lady Tatia, who seemed equally as intoxicated. Whatever the two were discussing obviously didn't matter much for their hardly made an effort to stop at the interruption. In fact, they continued as if they had not noticed Elijah's entrance at all.

"Brother, forgive me, am I interrupting something?" enquired Elijah at last, not daring to enter further into the room.

"As a matter of fact, yes, Elijah, you are, but pray tell what is it that you want to?" responded Klaus dismissingly, not sparing a glance towards his brother.

"I…," started the elder brother hesitantly, "am not sure if this is a discussion to have in front of company," finished he with a pointed look towards Tatia. At his words Klaus sighed, but stood up nevertheless and addressed the Lady:

"I am sorry, Tatia, it seems that we need to cut our discussion short. My brother needs to speak to me urgently," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice "I do hope to continue our discussion another time, tough. It was positively enlightening." Klaus then licked his lips and brought Tatia's hand to his lips to kiss without taking his gaze off her face for a second. The Lady just smiled devilishly and curtsied, leaving the room with nothing more than a glance in Elijah's direction. Once the door was shut behind her and they were alone, Klaus turned to his brother once again: "So, what is it, Eliajh? I am all ears."

"What was this stunt you pulled up with Katerina earlier tonight?" demanded Elijah. His question was met with the opposite reaction of what he had hoped for, however, and Klaus erupted into uncontrollable laughter.

"Is this what this is about? My little dance with your Princess?" he managed to get out through the fits. "Come on now, Elijah, it was meant as a jest. And maybe to push you towards doing something, you idiot. The girl stood there all night waiting for you to make a move. I didn't want to leave her hanging and eventually took her off to the dance floor myself. It is not such a big deal really. I am not sure why you make it sound like one. Besides, you know I would never make a move on your girl, brother. Just sleep on it and you will see I did it for your own good," finished Klaus with a dismissive wave of his hand and moved towards his fireplace on the other end of the room, turning his back towards his brother.

"No, the morning will not change anything, brother," snickered Elijah "Just like I fail to see it now, I won't in the morning either. Not everything is as simple as you think. In fact, I came to warn you, Niklaus. Stay away from the Princess! She will not be involved into your games for your amusement! I will not stand for it!" With these final words Elijah pushed the chambers doors open in his anger and let them crash behind him as he hurriedly made his way as far away as possible from his poisonous brother.

Still, the brothers were not the only ones, remaining awake deep into the night. Even long after the festivities had ended and the honored guests retired, the Lord and Lady of the castle found out that sleep eluded them. Whether it was the remaining tension from experiences of the day, the emotional reminiscence which followed the return of old acquaintances or the worry for the future, something was keeping the couple awake.

"I know what you are thinking," started Mikael from his position on the bed, staring straight ahead "That I am a Northman. That our whole family belongs here and not down south in the capital."

"It's a snake's pit. That is what the capital is," bitterly stated Esther, while combing her hair and looking at her reflection in the mirror of her dressing table. "But of course you know that already. Honestly, sometimes I think it is the very reason you want to go there," she stopped her movements then and turned to face him "I don't know what you want me to say, Mikael. You know my opinion well enough. Had it been up to me, I would not let you go. But you made it perfectly clear that it is not, isn't that right?"

"Even if I wanted to listen to you, woman, the King wants me," he paused "and the King takes what he wants. That's how this country works. That's why he is King," snorts Mikael and takes his glass of wine from the nightstand, taking a sip.

"Trust me, Mikael, if only a part of me believed that the King is the reason you are going," bemusedly said Esther as she stood up and made her way towards her side of the bed "then I would go up to him and say: "Listen, old man. You are not taking my husband anywhere. You didn't twenty years ago, you are not going to now either."" Mikael erupted in laughter at her words and settled down more comfortably against his pillows. Yet, the relaxation lasted just a moment before he grew contemplative again.

"Giuseppe has changed though. He has grown more irresponsible, more reckless. I think he has forgotten that he was not born a King."

"Well, that's what happens when you have access to unlimited power for an unlimited amount of time. It corrupts you," she shrugged as if to show that she wasn't really surprised of this development "Besides, take a look at his way of life. He only stops drinking when it is time to eat and no one dares tell him no. No wonder he resembles an old drunkard so much." Mikael laughed again and Esther relaxed, happy that she was able to speak her mind without being reprimanded. Yet, just when they settled in comfortable silence for the night, however, a knock on the door interrupted their peace.

"My Lord? My Lady?" called the guard from the outside the chamber "Ayana is at the door and says she brings urgent news."

"Sent her in," commanded Mikael with a sigh and straightened in bed but not getting up.

"Pardon me, my Lord, my Lady," greeted Ayana as she entered and swiftly continued without wasting time "There was rider in the night from your sister- the Lady Dahlia- my Lady." At these words Esther immediately jumped out of the bed and moved towards her housekeeper, extending her hand towards the letter. The scroll was short and hastily written. It didn't take her long to skim through it, although Esther made a note to read through it several times to make sure she understood it completely. In the meantime, Ayana, who went back towards the door, was stopped by Mikael:

"Stay and lock the door." The housekeeper did just so and moved back inside the room just in time for Esther to exclaim:

"This is sent from Norway! How could she reach Norway so quickly? She hadn't even left when she sent her last letter," she paused for a moment, staring into the nothingness beyond the window. Then with a determined strike she took the distance towards the fireplace and placed the scroll, watching it burn until nothing of it remained.

"What? Why did you do that? What does it say?" demanded Mikael, coming to stand behind her.

"Dahlia has fled Mystic Falls," answered Esther tightly "She claims that Thomas Fell was indeed murdered… just like you said. But she goes further than that. She claims it was the Petrovas who poisoned him and that the King is in danger, too."

"She is fresh widowed, Esther. She doesn't know what she is saying," responded Mikael unconvincingly.

"My sister's head would be on a spike if the wrong people had found that letter! Do you really think she will risk her life, her son's life, if she wasn't certain her husband was murdered?"

"If this new is true, My Lord, and the Petrovas are truly conspiring against the throne, there is no one but you, Lord Mikael, who can protect the King," pointedly inserted Ayana, smirking slightly.

"Ayana!" reprimanded Esther "We just learned that they murdered the last Hand of the King. Now you advice my husband to take the job? If anything this is just another reason for him to stay here with his family!"

"All due respect, my Lady, but the King rode for a month to ask for Lord Mikaelson's help. Lord Mikael must be the only person the King trusts right now. Besides, haven't you already promised the King to take the position, my Lord?"

"Mikael has spent half his life fighting Giuseppe's wars! He doesn't owe him anything!" cried out an exasperated Esther. "Don't you remember what happened to my mother and father?" she continued, turning to Mikael now "How they rode south once on a King's demand and never returned?"

"It was a different time then" coldly replied Mikael out of sudden. "And a different King. I will go," firmly stated Mikael turning to face them once again, determination written in his face which showed Esther that it was useless to argue. Her husband had made his decision. She could only hope that she was wrong and he will not come to regret this.

Thousands of miles away, a wedding was taking place. The joining of the alpha of the wolves to the forgotten princess was an event unlike any other. Everyone who was someone across the Narrow Sea attended. People mingled, using the opportunity for creating useful acquaintances, danced and laughed. Roasted meat and dried skins were provided for each of the guests' comfort. Drummers in the tradition of Dallas commanded the music and exotic dancers reigned over the stage, presenting enchanting performances of love and passion. The words were fighting over the order in which they would present their gifts to the newlyweds and each hoped that his would surpass those which came before him. The gifts in itself ranged from precious stones to exotic food to dangerous animals. The last one, or the trunk full of live poisonous snakes in particular, even made Caroline flinch despite being fully aware that these people's customs were not like hers. The most striking thing about her new people, however, and also the one which Caroline could still not bring herself to fully understand, was the liberty with which the wolves carried themselves everywhere. Even now, on that supposedly formal event, she could see females and males coming together to mate like animals, seeking nothing but physical pleasure from each other and not ashamed in slightest by their carnal desires. From her seat next to her new husband, Caroline could see that her mother, who was just a few meters away on the next table, wore a similar if more disgusted look on her face. The Dowager Queen was never good with accepting that, which she could not understand.

"Will I have the chance to meet with the alpha soon?" addressed Elizabeth Alaric, who was sharing her table. "If he is planning an invasion soon then I want to be part of the discussion."

"If Tyler Lockwood has offered your daughter a crown, then she shall have it," reassured her her host.

"The question is when?"

"When their omens favor war," shrugged Alaric.

"Omens? So my daughter's life will be governed by superstations from now on?" exclaimed the outraged Dowager Queen. "We have waited 17 years to go back home, don't forget that."

The conversation was suddenly brought to a halt, however, when a fight erupted among the crowd. Two of the male members of the pack had started a brawl over who gets to dance and later mate with one of the female wolves, but as they got angrier in their rage more and more onlookers joined in, drawn by the thrill of it. The music was getting louder and more intense as the punches grew more severe, the audience exclaimed and grunted with the participants as if it was all a big performance. The Dowager Queen supposed that for them it was. Tyler Lockwood himself uttered words which sounded much like approval in a foreign language and with a wave of his hand dismissed the next giftbearer. The groom's whole attention was on the situation in front of him. The brawl ended not long after that with an outcome which could have been easily predicted: one of the men slicing the throat of the other and cutting his head as a victory trophy. Caroline everted her eyes from the sight. She never imagined her wedding to be so brutal.

"A wolf wedding without at least three deaths is considered a dull affair," whispered Alaric to an equally horrified Elizabeth.

Around them, the festivities continued. If anything, the brawl had made the wolves even more cheerful and the deeper they got into their cups, the louder they became. Same went for their alpha who, unused to the sweetness of the southern wine, was consuming it with alarming quickness. He stood up then, out of the sudden, uttered something in his language and started to gesture vigorously with his hand. The crowd parted at their leader's words and a young man made his way forward. He was tall and blond with white complexion, well dressed and when he spoke, his mannerism and accent were unlike these of the Dallasite. This only served to puzzle Caroline more as she failed to see what a man like that was doing in a crowd as this. She had no time to contemplate it, however, as soon Tyler and the man were making their way back towards her.

"Caroline," addressed her Tyler hesitantly in her mother tongue and the bride looked up in surprise at his words. It was the first time he openly addressed her and in her language as well. "Allow me to introduce my good friend, Matt Donovan."

At these words the man stepped forward and bowed before saying:

"I bear a small gift for the new Luna. Songs and histories from the Seven Kingdoms."

"Thank you, ser," replied a still shocked Caroline, but accepting the gift graciously nevertheless. "Are you from my country?" she asked, unable to stop her curiosity and hide her wistful tone.

"Ser Matt Donovan of Lake Charles. I served your father for many years. Gods be good, I hope to always serve the rightful Queen," he said with a bow in her direction which caused Caroline to blush and her mother to smile approvingly.

Matt stepped away then and went to sit next to Caroline's new husband, easily falling into a conversation in Tyler's native language. It was at that moment which Alaric deemed appropriate to present his own gift. He motioned for several servants to step forward and they brought a huge wooden chest in front of Caroline. From inside, whimpering could be heart. She just hoped it was not another animal, meant for slaughter. The servants opened the chest to reveal three small whimpering pups, not even two weeks old yet. As if on instinct Caroline immediately stretched her hand to take one of them.

"These are wolf pups, Caroline, from the northern region of Louisiana in honor of your new allegiance and your husband's religion. But they are not your only gift. On each of their collars, I have ordered to attach a small vial. It is blood of a priestess from the Shadow Lands beyond Romania. It is said to cure even the worse disease and prevent death itself."

"Thank you, my Lord," replied Caroline, taking the pups into her lap gently and starting to pet them "Your gift is most appreciated."

She didn't have opportunity to enjoy them much, though, because moments after this last gift was accepted, the alpha stood up, bringing all attention on them. Tyler didn't say anything but silently outstretched his hand towards Caroline. She stood up, carefully placing the pups back into the chest and followed his lead, accepting his hand. Her husband started leading her away from their table and towards the middle of the celebration grounds, where she noticed, a pearly white mare stood, having being brought in without her notice.

"A gift for my new Queen," announced Tyler, giving her the reins. When Caroline raised her eyes to look at him, she noticed something akin to tenderness in his eyes. She offered a little smile herself, hoping that this meant that their marriage would begin on good grounds, even if she knew better than to trust first impressions.

"She is beautiful," remarked the bride, when she turned eyes back to the animal and moved closer to touch her mane. Then an idea struck her and she turned back towards the crowd. "Ser Donovan, how do I say "thank you" in the tribe's native tongue?"

"S'gi, milady," replied the knight.

"S'gi, my lord," repeated Caroline tentatively towards her husband, who rewarded her with a timid smile.

Tyler then moved towards her and helped her climb on the horse by lifting her up. He handled her as if she was no heavier than a feather and coming into contact with his body for the first time, except the occasional hand holding, Caroline realized just how strong he was in truth. No wonder why his enemies were afraid to come within a ten kilometer radius of his camp. Her husband then moved on her other side to settle upon his own horse and Elizabeth took this moment to approach her daughter.

"Be careful," she whispered and clasped Caroline's hand, passing her a small vial undetectably. Caroline nodded, accepting what she assumed to be poison but prayed to the gods that she will have no use of it. Neither tonight, nor any other night to follow. Still, to ease the mind of her worrying mother, she carefully ducked it away in her skirts.

Tyler respectfully waited for the Dowager Queen to say her goodbye and when she finally let go and moved back to her place in the crowd next to Alaric, he made a sign to Caroline and set off in a slow speed, which was easy to follow. They rode like this, side by side, for a while before a series of tents appeared in their view. The wolves' camp must have been completely emptied for the celebration with only a few unfortunate guards remaining behind to guard it. Tyler slowed down as they neared it and then proceeded to lead her towards the biggest tent in the center of the camp. She then realized that they had left early in order to have some privacy- something rare with a tent so in the middle unequipped for sound proofing. She tried not to think about what it would be to wake every morning to people constantly moving around her. Instead, she focused on her husband, who was leading her inside.

The tent was spacious, that much she would willingly admit. It was equipped with everything one would need for day-to-day use: a small working table, a bigger table for dinning, several chests to keep their belongings- hers she supposed would be transferred here soon- and a huge ornamented bed, who despite being constructed to be easily moved, seemed comfortable enough. There was also a fire place built inside which kept the place warm, although she was curious to find out how did the wolves protected themselves from starting a fire. Turning around, Caroline got so lost in her thoughts that she hardly heard her husband nearing.

"Hey," murmured Tyler quietly, suddenly humbled.

It felt strange, too intimate for them to be alone together like this. They were strangers in all senses, not having exchanged more than twenty words for the duration of the evening. Yet, Caroline didn't feel intimidated. If anything, his careful approach set her at ease. She turned towards him slowly, trying to give him a smile, even if it might have come out as a grimace. Tyler scratched the back of his neck nervously and motioned towards several cushions on the floor next to them. Caroline let out a breath and moved to sit down, waiting for what he would do next.

"So…" he started carefully as he settled down next to her "How do you want to do this?" he asked her as he looked her straight in the eye, the seriousness in his gaze making her gulp.

"Do what?" she asked just as carefully. Was he talking about the consummation or-?

"The whole marriage thing," shrugged her husband. "You don't really have to do anything more, you know. This… contract is just as important to me as it is to you. You did your part. You don't have to be the Luna if you don't want to," he paused to collect his thoughts and Caroline patiently waited for him to continue, trying to sort her own mind as well. "I know you are not used to… _this_ life," he emphasized, gesturing towards the tent around them "and I understand that. If you want to stay in the next bigger city we encounter, you may. I will summon you when the path to the coast is already cleared," he finished, not looking at her anymore.

"No," answered Caroline, shaking her head "No. I will not shy away from my duties like that. I… I accepted this life when I accepted to marry you and I want to make it work. I want to participate in the tribe's life and I want to try and be their Luna… if you would let me, that is."

"Alright," nodded Tyler.

Caroline cast her gaze down again, before admitting.

"I don't really know what is expected of me, though. Can you help me?"

"Yes. Yes, I will. In the morning I will explain to you the basics of how the camp operates and what is expected of you. Now, however, there is one thing I need to ask you."

"What? Is… is something wrong?"

"I just don't understand one thing…"

"Which is?" prompted Caroline, getting impatient.

"Why would you risk it? Our tribe is not loved by your people. We are distrusted everywhere we go. Not to mention this life is hardly desirable for a princess of your status. A political alliance is important but no much as to risk your safety for it. So, why marry me?"

Caroline didn't answer immediately, going through the options of what to say in her head. Honestly, she was asking herself the same things for weeks now and no logical answer ever came. All she knew is that when she made the decision it had felt like the safest bet of all the other options she had in front of her.

"Because I have heard your people are loyal," she finally settled for as an answer "Politics can be tricky and too many people like to change their alliance when a more beneficial opportunity arises. Few of them care about family and marriage enough not to do it. Most would discard me as easy as a common whore," she spat the last bit bitterly but looked at Tyler as she continued "I would like to think that with your tribe's familial traditions this would not happen here." A silence nestled between them for a long while before Caroline really smiled this time and added "Besides, I would trust that as a Luna, my safety would not be a concern among you. I would trust you to ensure that."

Tyler just shook his head again before replying:

"Alright. I am still not sure I understand you, but alright. You are a complex woman, Caroline."

At that, Caroline let a puff and stood up, turning to face him with her arm crossed in front of her chest. Tyler thought her annoyed expression in that moment enchantingly endearing.

"Well, maybe, then you just have to trust me and let me in."

"Oh, really?" coyly replied Tyler, settling back against the cushions.

"Yep, that's it. I know how you men are. You don't want anybody to care about you. But I'm your wife and I am going to care about you whether you like it or not. I'm sorry if that you think that I am overstepping my boundaries with that but-."

She didn't get to finish her sentence because at some point during her tirade Tyler had stood up and she was now feeling his warm lips upon hers, begging for entrance. She allowed herself to be lost in the kiss for a moment, feeling his hand waved in her hair, her own grasping his neck. When they ran out of air, Tyler let her go for just a moment, before reclaiming her mouth again. This time it was more intense, more passionate and Caroline felt herself responding to it with her whole body before her mind finally caught up with her. She pulled back in one swift motion, taking a step back to put some distance between them and let out a sigh. Tyler was looking at her confused and she bit her lip, wondering how exactly to explain to her new husband that she was decisively not ready to have sex with him.

"I can't do this…," she started at the same time he said:

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have— "

"No, no, it's not you… it's just, I am not sure if I can do this yet. I still don't know you and as great as this conversation just now was, it is literally our first longer than two sentences."

Tyler nodded at her words, replying tensely:

"It's okay, I understand. We don't have to do anything until you are ready," he really hoped she couldn't sense the disappointment in his voice. He then coughed awkwardly, shifting his gaze to anything but her "If you will excuse me…"

With these final words, Tyler made a small respectful bow in her direction and then dashed towards the exit of the tent, barely sparing her another glance. Once alone, Caroline left a frustrated growl and put her face in her hands in despair, wondering if she had after all managed to fuck up what had seemed an opportunity for a perfectly good marriage.

The morrow which followed was an emotional one for many, bringing with itself hope, sorrow, disappointment, curiosity and a unmistakable amount of hangovers, which threatened to ruin the good mood in the Abattoir. Nevertheless, nothing could sway away the King once he had decided on something and thus, even the biggest headache was not enough to persuade him to abandon his plan for a glorious hunting trip and remain in the castle. The dismay of the tired nobility, who were forced to join him in his pursuit, was therefore generously ignored.

"Rough night, Lady Tatia?"

The question was uttered in the foyer of the keep just as the Lady was struggling, but failing to remain upright while walking the distance towards the dining room. She turned around, shooting a glare at whoever dared to mock her, but relaxed when she saw Ser Luke Parker, one of the few members of the King's Guard she could actually stand. This might or might not had to do with the fact that he actually the audacity to look handsome enough to temp her into inviting him into her bed. She hadn't yet, though. Maybe she should revisit this thought later, when she is just a little soberer.

"Truth to be said, if I get through this morning without vomiting all over Lady Esther's table, I will consider it a success," joked the Lady.

"It's a good thing you are not coming with us to the hunt then," laughed the soldier, flashing her a charming smile.

"Haven't you heard, ser? I am not one for hunting, I enjoy being hunted," teased Tatia with a wink and turned back towards the door.

"Maybe one day you will let me catch you, then?" heard she from behind her but she knew better than to respond. Soldiers had sworn to take no wife but that didn't stop them from satisfying themselves every now and then, more often than not. Still, if Luke Parker wanted her, he needed to work harder, no matter how handsome he was.

Meanwhile in the yard a few halls down, the King was making his way towards Lord Mikael, swaying on his horse from the intense hangover.

"Are you as good with a spear as you used to be?" asked he humorously the tense looking Lord of the Abattoir.

"No," replied seriously Mikael "but I am still better than you," causing the King to erupt into laughter.

"I know what I am putting you through," remarked Giuseppe seriously a few moments later "Thank you for saying yes. I only ask you, because I need you. You are a loyal friend. You hear me? A loyal friend. The last one I go."

"I hope I serve you well."

"You will. And I'll make sure you don't look so fucking grim all the time," then the King moved forward on his horse, addressing his knights and the men of the Abattoir. "Come on, boys, let's go kill some boar!"

Henrik watched as his father and the King let the men through the gate and towards the forest, staring after the knights until they were out of sight. He imagined himself in their stead one day, following the orders of a kind and brave leader, protecting the realm. Yet, for now he had to make do with the little excitement which existed in his childhood home. With this thought in mind he turned towards Little Warrior, his wolf, and motioned for him to follow.

"Come on, boy," exclaimed the little Lord and broke in a run towards an abandoned part, just south of the Abattoir.

That is where the Old Tower was situated- one of the last remaining buildings of the first keep, build on this land, created by Henrik's ancestors. It was long abandoned and thus, perfect for Henrik to practice his climbing ever since his mother forbad him from doing so. At least, there was no way he was getting caught. The boy got to the foot of the tower and started his way up. The tower was around 30 meters high, but that was hardly a fact which concerned Henrik. Instead, he thought of all the land he would see from up there. He imagined that he will be able to spot his father and the King on their way. In his head, this was almost as good as joining them because if he could observe their progress from above, see what they see, then it was almost as if he was part of the hunting party, even if the adults didn't know it.

Lost in his imagination, the boy failed to notice the noises which started to reach him when he was halfway through the tower. Nor did he register that there was something out of the ordinary at that place, inhabited by only spiders and rats. Had he paid more attention to his surroundings he would have noticed the gasps and moans, echoing through the walls of the Tower, and their animalistic nature probably could have warned Henrik off before he reached the top. He would have stopped, turned around and run back to the keep as if nothing happened. Unfortunately, the boy was too lost in his own childish dreams to notice. In the legends they said that northern wolves had special connection to their Mikaelson masters, rulers of Louisiana for generations. Maybe that is why Little Warrior started whining desperately when Henrik was halfway up the Tower, but the boy was already too far from the ground to hear him. Maybe the wolf foreboded his master's tragic fate. But no amount of barking could stop Henrik who was pulling himself up and more up, using his petite hands for balance and strength.

He succeeded, finally, and reached the top. He made his way sideways towards the window with every intention of entering, but when he reached, he stayed frozen on his spot. For the first time, he registered the grunts and moans, coming from the room and realized that someone else was already occupying the space. His realization came at the same exact moment when the woman, from who the gasping was coming from, raised her head and locked her gaze with him. She immediately let a whelp of what he supposed to be surprise despite carrying hints of anger as well and tried to push her companion off of her. Henrik had no idea what they were doing exactly, but it seemed pretty intense for the man hardly registered her efforts and continued his animalistic movements.

"Stop! Brother, stop!" raged the woman, this time successfully fending off the man and just then did Henrik realize that it was the Queen, who stood before him. And as the man, still gasping from their activities, raised his face to see what was going on, Henrik recognized her brother, Sir Silas, in him.

It wasn't exactly clear to Henrik, being only twelve years old, what the couple was doing exactly but having lived with two older brothers and Marcel his whole life gave him the general idea. Thus, he concluded, it was better not to intrude on this intimate moment, not to mentioned the whole situation seemed- and felt- wrong. Henrik resolved not to ever speak of what he had seen today and turned around with the intention to climb back down the way he had come. In his embarrassment and hurry, however, the boy lost his balance and was about to fall if Silas- who had gotten up at that point- didn't catch him by his blouse and pull him back into the window frame. Henrik quickly grabbed the stone construction and looked worryingly at the knight, who was still holding him tightly.

"Are you completely mad?" asked the bewildered Silas, unable to grasp the bravery and stupidity of the boy.

"He saw us!" roared Amara's angry voice from inside the tower, but Silas choose to ignore her, tending to the tense boy instead.

"It's alright. Come on, stable now. Calm down," he whispered to the shaking boy.

"He saw us, Silas!" came Amara's voice again, even more forceful than before. It sounded like an order to Henrik but for what, he couldn't understand.

"I heard you the first time!" responded her brother just as forcefully and his face wrinkled just like Henrik's did when Ayana gave him a very complicated problem to solve in one of his studies. He must have been thinking very hard about something, Henrik reckoned, still not understanding what is going on.

From below the Tower, Little Warrior whimpered and ran off in the keep.

"Quite the little climber, aren't you?" asked Silas to stall time, still unable to make a decision. "How old are you, boy?"

"Twelve," answered Henrik with a shaking voice.

"Twelve," repeated the knight.

Something glinted in Silas's eyes then and he released his hold on Henrik, who relaxed because he thought that meant he was free to go now. The knight then turned to his sister, still sitting on the cold stone floor, looked her straight in the eye and murmured:

"The things I do for love." In one swift motion, Silas reached out and gave a decisive push to the young boy's body, leaving him flying towards his dead.

Back in the Abattoir, safe in one of the keep's towers, Rebekah was enjoying her daily lesson with Ayana. She had just finishing her embroidery and was now turning towards Ayana with joy in her eyes:

"Ayana, can we do something different tomorrow? I want to make myself an adornment to put on for when the King and the Prince return from the hunt!"

"If that is your wish, milady, then we can try and create jewelry for you tomorrow."

A piercing scream from the yard broke their tranquility just then, causing Rebekah to run towards the window:

"Is that Niklaus?" asked she and observed with dread the scene before her.

"Moooother!" came the piercing voice from the window again. Rebekah could now clearly see her brother, carrying a body further down the yard.

"Something is wrong," remarked Rebekah and not waiting a minute, she ran outside the room and down the stairs, making it to the yard for half the time, expected of a dignified lady.

Yet, she paid no mind to propriety just then, not when her favorite brother was evidently in so much pain. Her mother was still not there, when she reached Niklaus but he had not stopped hysterically screaming for her and the echo of his pained "Mooother!" could probably be detected from miles outside the keep.

"Henrik!" shriek Rebekah when she recognized the body of her second youngest brother in Klaus's arms.

Henrik was laying lifeless, his neck bent in an unnatural angle and as she kneeled down in the yard, Rebekah had to place a hand over her mouth to stifle a wail. Esther appeared in this moment, her hands in flour, obviously pulled away from the kitchen by Klaus's shouting, followed by Elijah only a few steps behind.

"No, no, no… my boy, no…. what happened?" asked the panicked mother, turning towards her son, whose face was already covered in tears.

"Little Warrior came to me as I was training… he was barking without a stop, so I decided to follow him… he brought me to the Old Tower and there… there… there was Henrik… Mom, I am sorry, I am so sorry…. I don't know—" Klaus was unable to finish, his voice overtaken by his tears.

"We… we must help him. There must be a way…" started the panicked Esther, looking desperately at Ayana who had appeared at the scene just after Rebekah.

"Even the spirits cannot help you now, Esther…" answered the servant tentatively, after checking Henrik's neck for pulse "Your boy is gone…"

"Noooooo, noooo…."

The tragic cries of the pained mother were carried late into the night that day and the family was so preoccupied with their grief that they failed to notice the prolonged absence of their royal guests, who had yet to reappear since breakfast.

A/N Here was the first chapter of "The Fall of the Mikaelsons". I am intrigued to hear your thoughts and opinions, so please don't forget to leave a comment :))

P.S. Bear in mind that this chapter was purposefully similar to the beginning of GoT and that is why I used much of the same or very similar lines of dialog. The more the story progresses, the more different it will be. Be prepared for surprises along the way.


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